Awful Love
by BeccaBlue94
Summary: Mac/oc incest, violence, possibly other taboo themes. Walter's only daughter gets dropped in Cainville, Utah and then given to her new half-brother as a treat. Mac pushes her limits, taking all his frustration out on her. Can she take it?
1. Chapter 1

**Ch.1**

Walter stared hard at the girl who, out of all his children, resembled him the most. Her skin was distinctly darker than it should have been, not the dark brown of his Mexican heritage, but not the soft peach of her mother either. Her hair came together as a mixture of reds and mahoganies, his and Elenor's combined. The strangest part though, her eyes, were neither his nor her mother's. The strange pewter coloring of the irises was almost an exact replica of his son, Mac. He continued to stare her down, but instead of crumbling like most people did under his intense gaze, she stared back unrelenting. _So she's stubborn like Mac too_.

She'd learn better.

Walter tried to decide where he'd put her that would make her useful. He didn't know what to do with girls. He didn't understand them, didn't see a use for them past fucking. This one was too damn small, wouldn't do any good in the canyons. And she was too damn young to put in the bar; she'd get herself raped before the week was out. He'd gotten plenty of women pregnant, but he'd only fathered useful children, boys as far as he knew.

Until now.

"Mac!" Walter called out, looking away from the little girl, but not missing the sharp flinch her body did at the sound of his voice.

"What?" The gruff voice of his second oldest echoed from the back of the bar.

"Get your ass out here you sorry piece of-" Mac appeared before Walter had finished his insult, which pissed the older man off a bit. He always liked degrading his kids, made them more respectful.

"I'm here old man, what the hell do ya want?" Mac, at sixteen, already stood near six foot and had distinct muscle layout from working in the canyons and the mechanics garage. The teenager's eyes flicked to the unfamiliar girl standing awkwardly in the center of the Luna Mesa, with her arms wrapped around her middle. Walter could almost see the violent heat filling his son's eyes as he leered at the girl. It was the same look Walter got himself before he wooed some unsuspecting bitch to warm his bed for a while. It was a look that was purely animalistic, one a predator would get when spotting prey; and the girl had the intelligence to look a bit scared and take a step away from her half-brother.

"This is Charlotte," Walter introduced, motioning with his hand for the thirteen year old to step forward. She did so hesitantly, regaining only the two steps she'd taken backward, while Walter watched Mac look up and down her budding female form.

_She was a delicious looking thing_, Walter acknowledge, letting his own gaze drift over her again. Too young for him, but he could see the potential in her. She had a willowy body, long legs and arms, her stomach was lean, breasts tight, large enough for the men to know that she wasn't wearing anything under her tank top when she should have been, but not large enough to fill a hand. _Yet_. She had a good ass on her too, tight, like the rest of her, and filling her jean shorts very well.

"That bitch Elenor here too?" the teen growled finally, sending a lewd smile to his new half-sister before turning his attention back to Walter. It was then that the patriarch decided where this girl's use would lie.

"No, dropped the girl and left." The girl flinched at the mention of her abandonment, "Want you to take her with you. Teach her something." Mac flicked his blue-grey eyes back to the girl; her head was down now, hair covering her face.

"Teach her huh," Mac scratched his chin thoughtfully. It was clear on his face exactly what he wanted to teach her. Instead he snapped, "Hey, bitch, go in the back and get two of the shirts hanging up on the rack." The girl jerked, staring up at Mac with wide, fearful, eyes.

She didn't move more than that.

"What's wrong with you?" When she still didn't move, he growled, stomping forward and shaking the little girl by her arm, "How the hell are you supposed to be useful if you don't fucking do what I tell you?" his patience was wearing thin, not that he had much to begin with and instinct should have told the girl that she should obey. Charlotte whimpered, loud in the silence of the bar. Turning her head to Walter she saw the man, supposedly her father, stand, back against the bar nonchalantly drying glasses and watching the pair interact. The two of his sons that lived in Cainville, Mac and Rick, got along well enough after Rick had established dominance over the younger boy-much in the same way Mac was doing now. There was someone younger now, giving Mac the opportunity to assert his own authority over. Walter wasn't much worried about his son hurting the girl too bad, but he was within reach of the baseball bat under the counter if things got out of hand. Mac jerked her up against him again, drawing her identical eyes back to him.

"We're gonna try this again," Mac started taking a deep breath through his nose, he had Charlotte pressed so close to him she could feel the words rumbling against her breasts. "Go. Get. The shirts. Now!" He threw her back, in the direction of the backroom. The girl scurried away quickly, anxious to put distance between her and the vicious boy and vaguely aware of Walter chastising Mac's attitude.

Walter waited for the girl to be out of the room before he started in on Mac. He wasn't harsh, just indolent. "Be nice to her. Girls' just scared and confused. Her mama just dropped her in Hell with a man she's never met, only just being told that that strange man is her father." Mac snorted, most of Walter's women did that after a while. His and his half-brother Rick's moms' did the same thing when they were nine and fourteen. Walter, unappreciative of the dismissal, set the glass and towel aside, snatching Mac by the back of the neck. Mac's face collided with the wood bar surface, jarring and painful but not inflicting injury, before the boy'd even realized what was happening. "You listen and you listen good boy, you do right by her. Watch out for her and keep your grimy hands offa her." Mac struggled under his father's significant weight and Walter felt he should sweeten the deal for Mac a bit. "You do all that, you can have her. You can lock her in a fucking cage for all I care, just wait a few fucking years." Walter released his son with one more, well deserved, face-meets-bar.

Mac rubbed his jaw, giving a reluctant nod to his father as the girl returned holding two plaid buttons up shirts.

"Here," she murmured to Mac, holding out the shirts. A forced smile curled his lips, first at Walter as a distinct fuck-you to the old man, and then to her. He took the red shirt, pulling it on over his wife beater and nodded to her.

"Put that one on, I'm not listening to you bitch about your skin burning." She did what he said, watching patiently for her next command. When Mac headed for the bar entrance, she followed cautiously, looking back at Walter who only gave a short nod that she took as an approval. When the pair was out of the bar, Walter gave a smirk at their backs. The girl was quiet, which would suit Mac fine, which gave Walter less to worry about. It was the mouthy ones that Mac usually beat. What he worried about now was that Mac might actually fall in love with the poor girl, she had fight in her. When she'd stared him down, it had been hard to miss. They'd be good together, do what he told them without pause. Walter laughed to himself, in the quiet of the bar, he wondered if promising his only known daughter to one of his sons was sick. After a brief moment of consideration, Walter realized;

He didn't really care.


	2. Chapter 2

**Ch.2**

Mac watched in honest amusement as the girl struggled to pull herself into the truck. The sleeves on his shirt were far too long for her short arms and kept getting in the way of her hands, which caused her to lose her grip and have to start all over. When he finally got tired of watching her fail-or when her inability began to cut into his work time-Mac reached out, once again banding her forearm with his large hand, and pulled her slight weight into the cab of the truck. She gave him a small, hesitating smile. Looking at her plush lips, he couldn't help but wonder what they would feel like wrapped around his dick. She was most likely a virgin. Which meant that when she turned sixteen…or when he decided he was done listening to Walter, he would be the one to teach her how to do everything. And damn, that would be a good day. Mac started his truck, focusing on navigating into the canyons, rather than his hardening dick and what he wanted to do with it.

"You ever been in a cave?" he snapped. The last thing he needed was the girl to go hysterical or be claustrophobic when he was working with acid. She looked up at him shaking her head, her blue-grey eyes-the pair that matched his perfectly- flashed in the bright morning sun making them a brighter blue. "You know how to talk?" Mac barked, getting frustrated with her silence. Charlotte blinked, nodding slowly like she didn't understand why he would ask.

"Well, yeah," she said deliberately, "You just don't seem the idle conversation type." Mac smirked at the desert.

"Damn right." They were silent for a beat, Mac's mind returning to the canyon path as the road narrowed and the wheel got harder to control. Charlotte stared out at the barren landscape surrounding the truck, taking in the bright, hot sun and the red, canyon walls. She'd only been there a day and only been outside a few moments, but already she felt grimy and covered in sand. It was beautiful though, even if the air conditioning of Mac's truck didn't seem to work.

"Thank you, for the shirt. I probably would already be burned." She tried, turning her head to look at him. Mac grunted in reply, keeping his eyes on the road and not on her appreciative smile. When it didn't seem his mood would change, Charlotte scooted around in her seat, making herself comfortable to lean her head against the window and continue watching the scenery for the rest of the ride.

It only took about fifteen minutes to get to the cave. Most of the ride had been silent…well actually the whole last twelve minutes of the trip were silent. But now the truck was parked outside a cave mouth and Mac was navigating them through the darkness of the tunnel. Charlotte, after nearly tripping several times, put her hand out and grappled onto Mac's shirt. He stopped suddenly; Charlotte ran into his back. She huffed out a breath, Mac turned his head to look over his shoulder, she couldn't see his eyes but she had a feeling that he was glaring at her.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" She dropped her hand at his harsh tone, taking a step back and tripping on the uneven floor. Mac let her fall, grunting as she gasped in pain. "Stupid bitch, get off your ass and come on. I don't have time for your shit." Charlotte stood, ready to start following him again, but Mac didn't move. He grabbed her arm, again, pulling her in front of him, "walk," he growled, pushing her forward. His hands stayed on her forearms, leading her none-to-gently through the darkness and into an open cavern. Charlotte was almost positive that she would have awkward bruises on her arms from his grip. When they were in the dimly lit cavern Mac let go of her, shoving her down on a dirty mattress. "Stay" he ordered as he moved to the work table. Charlotte took her time inspecting the cavern from her place on the floor. The air was moist, she could hear water dripping somewhere far off sounding, and it smelled something like sulfur. There were oil drums everywhere along the curved walls rock walls of the cave and a long work table with equipment you'd find in a chemistry lab near the middle of the cavern. Then there were random things like lawn chairs and folding tables and the mattress she was sitting on. Alcohol was also a prominent thing in the cavern, cases stacked high where ever there wasn't oil drums, which gave her the distinct impression that this place was used for other things than Mac's…work.

"What are those brick looking things?" Charlotte asked, looking at the pyramid of what looked like plastic wrapped, baking flour. Mac glanced at her, picking up a gas mask.

"Meth." His short answer made her mind process more slowly. When she didn't say anything, Mac looked up, watching the wheels turn. He counted backward, slowly in his head, from five, at two, her pewter eyes snapped to his and the light bulb flickered on.

"Meth?" her voice was a little higher, not panic-y, but a slight hysteric. Mac grunted, pulling the gas mask on and resuming his work, as she was no longer amusing. "Meth, like Meth the drug?" he rolled his eyes at the stupid question, but noted that her voice was deliberately slower. She took a few deep breaths, like she was trying to make the new knowledge acceptable, letting the nervousness edge away. His grunt was muffled by the gas mask, there was a pregnant pause, and then, "Do you do drugs?" all frantic emotion was gone, replaced with child-like curiosity. With an exaggerated sigh, Mac lifted his mask again, _if I answer, she'll be quiet_, he reminded himself. Her head was cocked to the side, like a dog.

"No. Now, be a good girl, and _shut up_." He snapped. Again he went to pull down his mask, his eyes falling on the table covered in different dangerous acids and random other household cleaners. Then he thought about his mask, he realized that the fumes would get to her too. They'd make her dizzy, maybe even sick, that would suck for him. Walter would beat him black if he let her get sick cause he didn't take care of her. Mac pulled a half-way clean bandana from his pocket, he moved around the worktable, kneeling down in front of her. There was a twinge of hurt in her eyes; Mac figured it was because he snapped at her. "Put this on," he ordered with a sigh, "over your mouth and nose." Charlotte took the cloth with a shaking hand, doing as he said. When she was done, Mac returned to his worktable, Charlotte's eyes on him the whole time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Ch.3**

The Mesa Luna was a busy place.

Over the last year, Charlotte had come to learn this, she'd sit behind the bar, staying out of Walter's way, and watch all the people that came through. It seemed that by eight o'clock in the evening, every resident of Cainsville was packed into the worn bar, it was where they congregated. She'd thought it was strange, at first. There were so many women there, hardly dressed in presentable clothes, and men who drank until they couldn't sit straight on the bar stools. But, in a strange way, it was like the family dinners on crappy television. Everyone knew everyone and even when they were mad at each other, people still laughed and talked and gossiped.

It made her smile.

"Hey Lottie!" Lowell stepped up to the bar, smiling brightly at her on the floor. She gave him a small smile in return. She'd only met Lowell a few times since she'd gotten to Cainsville. She'd learned that he was the sheriff's son. That was the same night she'd learned that the sheriff was a meth addict who kept Walter's business under wraps as long as he got a good discount on the powder and that everyone in Cainsville knew about, and was probably involved in, her father's business. Lowell was always sweet to her when he came around, but Charlotte still wasn't too keen on getting close to anyone. It was a secret fantasy she had, that one day her momma would come back for her. Take her away from this hell and back into the normal world. She knew it was a hopeless dream, but it didn't stop her from wishing. "Whatcha doin sittin in back there all by your lonesome?" the boy continued, hiking himself onto one of the stools.

"Walter doesn't want me out there yet. Says I should stay out of reach." Lowell nodded like he understood. But no one could understand Walter's motives for anything. It was just the way the man was, his brown eyes didn't give anything away if he didn't want them too. He protected her from the people in the town, but he handed her over to Mac like she was a Christmas gift.

"Do you want some company?" Charlotte glanced down at the book she'd brought with her. She'd finished it five times since Walter had gotten it for her, along with the other nine he'd bought. She didn't have the courage to ask for a new batch, so she'd just started rereading the old ones, no one paid enough attention to notice anyway. She shook her head, tapping the cover with her nail.

"I'm gonna finish this." Lowell looked skeptical, eyeing the cover thoughtfully.

"You were reading that one last week." Apparently someone noticed her after all. His head disappeared beneath the bar for a second, when he came back up, he was holding two novels in his hands. "If you don't want to talk, then read something you haven't yet." He slid the books across the bar top toward her. Charlotte pushed herself off the floor, picking up the books and reading the backs.

"Where did you get these?"

"Grocery has 'em sometimes." He shrugged.

"Thank you," she started to say more, but Rick came up behind Lowell, slapping the younger boys shoulder roughly.

"The fuck do you think you're doing?" Lowell swung around, eyes wider. He was gonna start stuttering soon.

"Rick leave him alone," Charlotte demanded childishly. Rick glared at her.

"Keep your mouth shut, aren't you supposed to be staying quiet and out of the damn way?" Charlotte shrunk back. Usually, Rick was pretty nice to her, easy going, but it was obvious he'd been drinking pretty heavily.

Alcohol made him mean.

"I…I was jus-just gonna give her some..."

"Just gonna give her some what? Get the fuck outta here before I decide to tell Walter you were working your way into his girl's pants. Or maybe I should tell Mac?" Lowell paled considerably under Rick's threatening gaze. He disappeared so fast that, had it been a cartoon, he would have had smoke left in his wake. It would have been comical, had Charlotte not felt so bad. Everyone that talked to her got in trouble. She wished people would stop trying. "Stupid little bitch," Rick growled, leaning against the bar, "Keep flaunting yourself and you're gonna end up like one of those girls." He pointed out across the bar to where he and Mac were sitting. It was a corner booth, hidden a little out of the way and covering in shadow because the hanging light didn't work. Mac had one of the girls in question on her knees in front of him. Charlotte couldn't see what she was doing, but by the look on her half-brother's face, she could take a good guess.

"I…" Charlotte couldn't say anything as she watched Mac's head fall back; his chest rose and fell rapidly with labored breaths she couldn't hear. She felt her cheeks start to burn as her eyes fixed on the lewd sight. The whole town could see what they were doing, but Mac didn't care, he never did. Suddenly, Mac's head snapped up, eyes meeting hers, he smiled lecherously. He jerked the girl's head up, pressing his mouth against hers all the while staring at Charlotte. She couldn't explain why the scene affected her so much, but she forced her eyes to Rick's in an attempt to break the spell. "I don't want to be one of them," she stated with so much conviction, Rick raised an eyebrow at her.

"Then don't." The two words were so simple, but held so much meaning. Maybe he wasn't as drunk as she'd thought. He walked away then, grabbing another bottle of beer from her side of the bar as he turned. Charlotte didn't watch him go; she didn't want to see Mac like that again. She turned instead, heading to the backroom of the bar where Walter was. She left the books forgotten on the counter.

"What are you doin back here?" her father asked, his soft accent seemed almost soothing compared to raunchy noise in the bar. She didn't answer him though; she knew he didn't really care. She sat on the edge of his desk, giving him a small smile as she did. Walter watched her, dark eyes revealing nothing in his head. Then he reached out, Charlotte flinched, expecting a slap for disturbing him. Instead he brushed a stray piece of hair out of her face, nodding when it was fixed. He was kind of OCD about stuff like that, but he never really showed it and the rare tenderness of the action made her smile a little wider. "You look like ya mother when you do that." Charlotte's nose crinkled, she didn't want to be anything like her mother. He left her alone, returning to the account books he was working on. After a while of Charlotte correcting him, Walter handed the logs to her, challenging her to do better.

She did.

It was the first time she'd ever gotten praise from Walter. Not that it was much, a simple nod of the head and a quirk of his lips. But it was enough for her to know that she wanted him to give her that look more often. She asked Walter to pull out all of his accounts, for the bar and the canyon, and got to work redoing all the logs for the last four years. Walter watched her work for a while, but she didn't notice. The world became a blur as she wrote out the problems, her mind working through the numbers quick and precise.

She must have fallen asleep at some point. When she woke up again, the sun was shining through the window of Walter's office, Walter was gone, and the books Lowell had left for her were sitting on the coffee table next to the couch she didn't remember moving to. She wondered if Walter had been the one who'd moved her, but after a little thought, she decided it probably wasn't. She was small, but Walter was still an older guy, he probably wouldn't have been able to carry her that far.

_But if he hadn't done it, who had?_


	4. Chapter 4

**Ch.4**

**2 Years Later**

Charlotte watched Mac mix chemicals to create the disgusting drug Walter distributed. Rick was packaging the finished product, alternating between stacking the bricks in a pyramid formation and taking a puff of a joint he'd pulled from some hiding spot the boys hadn't told her about. She was fascinated by the way Mac moved; muscles bunching and flexing, brow furrowed and jaw clenched with a tic forming. He lifted the industrial sized paint thinner canister to mix in the beaker already filled with equal portions of battery acid and Benzene. She'd learned all the ingredients from Mac and Rick. When they were feeling unusually friendly, they would let her stand with them at the work table. Rick even let her help package sometimes while Mac pointed out all the different containers and their uses.

"Hold your bandana down for a second," Rick ordered, Charlotte didn't hesitate to do what he said even though her oldest half-brother didn't even have his gas mask on. She hated this part, the smell was horrific and even when she shifted farther against the wall on her mattress she couldn't escape it. She couldn't imagine how Rick could just stand there, puffing his joint, like nothing was wrong. She always felt a little dizzy afterward. Mac and Rick backed up from the table, letting the heaviest of the fumes waft away. She counted to one-hundred and twenty in her head before either man stepped back up to the table. Charlotte slid off her mattress, walking around the worktable to stand next to Mac.

"Can we go now? It's nearly dark and I want to go home." Mac shook his head at her whining, not looking up from his work. Two years had given the pair time to grow on the other and this act had become routine.

Charlotte huffed at him, shoving her hand in his back pocket to retrieve the lighter he kept there. "You have ten minutes, Mac," she snapped, reaching with her other hand to pull out a joint-not as strong as Rick's, but something Mac had concocted just for her-he kept in his breast pocket. "Ten, Mac, I mean it. I'll leave your ass here," her threat was empty, because she left his keys where they were on the table, but her brandishing the lighter at him made him chuckle.

"Whatever, bitch." His hand snapped out, slapping her jean covered ass as she turned.

"Bastard," she yelped, growling unthreateningly around her joint. She got to the tunnel before she lit it, knowing that if she tried to do so while she was too close, she could potentially blow them all sky high. _And wouldn't that just piss Walter the hell off_? Mac's chuckle followed her into the tunnel, to which she flipped him the bird before she disappeared into the darkness.

Twenty-five minutes later her brothers ambled out of the cave, whooping loudly with beer bottles in their hands. Charlotte had pushed the bandana up into her hair and huddled in the bed of Mac's truck, wrapped tightly in Mac's shirt. As the boys came closer, she leveled her glare on the pair of them.

"Ten fucking minutes, Mac," she growled, through chattering teeth, from her burrow. Mac grinned slyly, rocking his beer in her face.

"Rick and I decided to celebrate a good day's work." Charlotte slid out of the truck bed, smacking her brother's chest.

"Bullshit, you…you're…" unable to find insulting enough words, Charlotte let out a short scream of frustration. Rick stepped forward, watching the heat cloud his little brother's eyes. A sign Rick had learned long ago meant that Charlotte was in for a little discipline. He knew Mac wouldn't go too far with the girl, he liked his toys in pristine condition, but Rick couldn't help but feel he needed to help the girl a little. Clapping his brother on the shoulder as Charlotte pushed past them, heading toward the passenger side of the truck, Rick left his brother a reminder.

"Take care of her," the eldest began, nodding his head at her back, "No marks, don't want Walter to know you're breakin his rules." Mac nodded and with that, Rick walked off to his own truck, driving off.

"Mac unlock the door, I'm fucking cold!" Charlotte jerked on the door handle, glaring at him. He shook his head. Charlotte could see now what Rick had. His normally light blue eyes were turning darker. _Fuck_.

"C'mere," Mac ordered. She had the decency to look a little nervous, watching his finger curl in a come-hither gesture. "Now, Lottie." The voice in the back of her mind told her going to him would be detrimental, but her feet moved on their own, mind knowing that not going to him would be worse. Closing the distance between them, she stopped an arms-length away, but it wasn't far enough. Mac's hand shot out, like a snake striking, and clamped down on her small wrists. He dragged her forward into his chest and then shoved her back into the truck bed roughly. Her body jerked a little against the metal bed, her breasts bouncing slightly. In the last two years, her budding form had surged forward into lithe curves with just the right amount of softness in her chest, ass and thighs. The way she struggled now just reminded him how good she looked dressed in so little.

Charlotte kicked out her legs, aiming blindly for some part of him. Mac lifted her upper body by her wrist and slammed her back against the metal bed. She cried out and he drank up the sound like it was a drug. All her fight was making him hard, even more when she pulled her wrists up to get his arm level with her mouth, her blunt little teeth sank into his arm. Mac groaned, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

"You're makin me love you," he commented, using his free hand to spread her legs to make room for him. Charlotte whined, arching her stinging back from the cold metal. "Just a few more days and you're mine," he continued, smiling lewdly, "you know what I'm gonna do to you when that day comes?" Charlotte was done playing this game, his falsetto angry dominance routine was just making her wet and anxious; her legs came up, locking around his hips. She smiled up at him, a hint of innocence playing in the blue depths.

"Doesn't matter, I've always been yours," her hips came up, grinding smoothly against her brother's. Mac moved his lips from her cheek, down her jaw to the long column of her throat. His teeth sank down into her young flesh, leaving teeth marks but not drawing blood.

"Damn right," he growled, drawing his tongue along the bite marks. He lifted off of her when she tried to rock her hips against his again, smirking down at her. Charlotte keened, but didn't fight him. Just like she knew she was his, she knew that he was in charge of her pleasure. If she wanted something, she'd have to ask real nice and wait for him to give her permission or grant it himself. "Get in the truck." Charlotte slid to the edge of the truck bed, pecking her brother on the lips once before she jumped down, scurrying to the passenger side with the keys Mac had slipped into her hand. The truck jerked forward when Mac closed the hatch as she started the vehicle and unlocked his door. She kept herself cuddled into his side as they drove home; her legs thrown over his lap, head resting on his shoulder, one hand over her stomach and the other using long fingers to stroke his throat, arm and chest.


	5. Chapter 5

**Ch.5**

Mac's house was a four walled piece of shit box painted white several years ago and in desperate need of a new coat. To the right of the should be condemned home, Mac had a half assed cage built out of metal fencing, chicken wire and plywood around the bottom. Inside of the cage, Mac's dog Beast was pacing back and forth watching their truck pull into the drive before leaping at his fence and barking madly. The animal leapt at its fence, dragging himself nearly through the bars, but his large body stayed suspended.

Charlotte looked to her brother with a pout, "Can we bring him in tonight Mac?" Her wide blue-grey eyes displayed her eagerness and the clasped hands held under her chin were innocent. It didn't stop Mac from snarling at her.

"Fuck no," he snapped, opening his door and stepping out of the truck. Charlotte followed suit, meeting him at the front of the truck. "The last thing I need his that mutt marking his territory on my shit." Even as he said it, Mac knew Charlotte was going to bring the dog inside.

"You're such an ass," she grumbled. He watched her sashay over to the gate and immediately the dog settled, recognizing the scent of his owner. He lay on his stomach showing compliance, but not subservient. With a cocky smile, Charlotte released the latch on the gate, grabbing Beast's collar as soon as he stepped out. The dog's neck came to her hip, so she didn't have to bend over as she started for the front door. "C'mon baby," she cooed lovingly, "Let's go get you some food." Mac couldn't believe Charlotte like the stupid animal. He'd thought for sure it'd scare her when he brought it home, but she'd instantly launched herself at it and even went as far as training it when Mac wasn't around. He, on the other hand, was mean to the dog, hoping that it would be useful and be a good guard dog that he could take to the canyons. Instead, it became a guard dog for the house, cause it couldn't be let loose without it running off.

"How do you expect him to be a good attack dog if you fatten him up and make him lazy?" Charlotte ignored her brother's sour tone, leading the way into the house.

The inside was only slightly better than out, thanks mostly to Charlotte's cleanliness and to Mac's lack of unneeded possessions. The living room, where they came in, had a few empty beer bottles and half full whiskey bottles, there was a shirt thrown over the back of the chair and a small layer of dust collecting on the coffee and end table. The kitchen was the same-minus the clothes and dust-however there was now dog food around the floor as Charlotte attempted to pour the industrial size bag of Kibble, which outweighed her by several pounds, into Beast's dog bowl. There was a stack of bills on the counter for him to look over, an empty pizza box to be thrown out and a few dishes in the sink for Charlotte to clean. All that aside, it was nice enough.

Mac left his girl to her own, going down the short hall to their room to change while she worked up an idea for dinner. The bed with adjoining bathroom was by-far the cleanest, both being absolutely spotless until Mac discarded the days shirt and wife beater to the floor. He kicked off his boots at the door on his way back to the kitchen.

Charlotte was on the floor, the dog licking at her cheek and neck. Mae felt the stirring as his blood flow redirected south. It shouldn't have turned him on, but it did. Seeing her, on her hands and knees, those lips curled in a smile. She didn't even realize the dog was trying to get to her back, his pointed tip appearing every time he humped forward against her arm.

She didn't realize it wanted to rut, not play.

Mac leaned against the door frame, watching, wondering.

He could help the dog out; someone should be able to get off at least. But would she do it? Her shirt lifted with the dog's pawing, exposing the bruises he'd given her in the truck bed. Of course she would. That was the whole premise of their relationship. She'd do whatever he told her.

Without question.

Without regret.

Without contempt.

Mac's lips curled up in a sick smile. He could make her do whatever the fuck he wanted her too.

And he would start tonight.

"Lottie," Mac called, she looked at him cocking her head in question. Mac crooked his finger, pushing his shoulder off the door frame. "C'mere." Slowly, she pushed the dog away and crawled a few paces toward him before working her way onto her feet. Mac held his hand out, drawing her into an embrace and kissing her temple. Charlotte moved with him, turning her head as he moved down until he was nipping at her jaw. She whined, absorbing his affection like a sponge. It was such a rare thing that he acted like this. Her back arched, hips moving in a subtle grind.

"Do you love me?" he asked, voice gravely and appealing. Charlotte nodded rapidly, eyes pleading as his left hand slid to the apex between her thighs. "You'd do anything I say?"

"Yes!" Her reply was instant and breathy; honesty and arousal were a heady combination. Mac gave a Cheshire cat grin, rotating them to press her into the wall. There was no space between them; he continued to ground her hips to his using his free hand on her ass to guide her movements.

"Yeah?" he whispered, "Go to the couch and strip for me," he demanded, soft kisses between words. Charlotte leaned into his touch and in a flash it was gone. Mac shoved her toward the living room. She stumbled, barely catching herself before she hit the unforgiving ground. Steadying herself she stared at her brother with wide eyes. She was concerned now, they'd played before, petting and kissing and even her giving him head, but he'd never been so…like this before.

"Mac-" he caught her jaw, pushing away from the wall, making a shushing noise.

"Thought you said you loved me." All playfulness was gone; the mirth in her eyes was replaced with a hint of apprehension with each squeeze of his hand. "Didn't you just say you'd do _anything_ for me?" His blue-grey eyes turned icy, glaring down at her identical pair.

"I did—I do, Mac, but Walter said-" Mac shushed her again, sliding his hand around her throat. His grip tightened as he spoke.

"I'm not gonna break any of Walter's _fucking_ rules." Again Charlotte whimpered, nodding her head once against his grip. Tears were coming to her eyes; she could feel them and tried to blink them away. She hated when Mac got like this. She'd witnessed this behavior with other women in the town, but he'd never go so far past the point of sweet pleasure/pain. "You gonna do what I say, bitch, or do you need a reminder of who you belong to?"

Charlotte's small hand clasped around Mac's wrist pulling softly, "Okay," her murmured reply was near music to Mac's ears.

"Atta girl." His hand came away with a small urging toward the living room. Charlotte didn't stumble this time. The fridge opened behind her, bottles clinking and then Mac was with her, flopping down on the couch.

She didn't make it a show, just removed layers until she stood before him in her bra and underwear-nothing flashy, simple cotton-and then she waited in silence, arms wrapped around her stomach, for Mac's next order. He took his time, soaking up her discomfort and sipping his beer. His eyes moved up and down her lithe frame, the perfect combination of soft woman and tight flesh. She was shaking now, under his scrutiny, and he loved it because the fear that was in her eyes before was being quickly replaced by arousal. Mac figured there was a shit eating grin on his face, the power he felt at the moment was so invigorating just watching her now, imagining what he was about to make her do, had him painfully hard. Every time she flicked her eyes up and her plush lips turned down into a frown before being pulled between her teeth, just made waiting even more difficult.

But it would all be worthwhile soon.

"You want some?" Mac tilted the bottle at her. His look told her it wasn't really a question but an urging to come to him. Charlotte took a small step but Mac snapped, "crawl." And she fell to her knees almost instantly. If she was good than whatever he had planned would be good for her too, if she kept being disobedient though, the outcome would be…unpleasant. As she moved forward on her hands and knees, she despised the dark smirk of power and control on his lips. Even more, she hated the way her insides twisted and squeezed so pleasurably at that look. Charlotte made her way between his legs, coming up on her knees.

In the kitchen, Mac watched Beast perk up from the floor, eyeing the bitch wagging her ass at his level with interest. Charlotte tugged to bottle from his hand, bringing his eyes back to her level. He watched as she placed the bottle against her lip, tilting her head back to show her throat working to swallow what she drank down. His hands came down to her hips, rubbing circles into her slightly jutted pelvis with the rough pads of his thumbs. The motion wasn't soothing or soft, but gooseflesh erupted over her skin anyway. As she drank, Mac kept his lips firmly planted on the soft skin of her neck, moving up to her jaw then running his tongue back down as she swallowed again. When the drink was empty, Charlotte set it behind her on the coffee table and, in a moment of dominance, captured his lips with hers. She moaned and whimpered, placing her hands on top of his and pressing his thumbs harder. This was the side he'd unleashed the first time he'd touched her in the privacy of the booth hidden in the back of Walter's bar. Mac liked this on occasion, the restless sex kitten that attacked him in the middle of the night, or when they were alone in the canyon. He couldn't wait until she was sixteen and he could really enjoy her the way he wanted.

He noticed, when she pulled away to catch her breath, that the bandana she'd slid into her hair was still in place. When the heat in her calmed, he curled his fingers around the material and pulled it over her eyes. Instantly she went to remove it completely, but he stopped her.

"Leave it." He pushed her hands down, "Stay," he demanded. She felt him stand, moving around her. She heard the coffee table move across the carpet, the soft _shoos_ sound filling the room. He was back, shifting her between his legs a bit before catching her lips roughly and snatching her wrist, positioning it over the bulge in his jeans. He maneuvered her fingers to unbutton his jeans and pull the zipper down. He arched, pushing the offending article enough to release his cock. Charlotte didn't fight as he wrapped her hand around the appendage. Bottom lip suckled between her teeth, she looked fascinated with the pulsing against her hand. Though it wasn't the first time she'd ever seen-or touched-him in such a way, she always held that air of innocents when he initiated the play. It helped that her eyes were covered; Mac had heard that losing one sense enhanced all the others.

It didn't take long for her to take control, he'd taught her what he liked and she was pretty good. He didn't have to guide her hand; instead he leaned back and enjoyed the sensations for just long enough to get him close. Beast was slowly creeping closer to the action, watching with rapt interest as Charlotte worked her magic. Vaguely Mac wondered if, if the mutt could think, he imagined Lottie's hand around his own prick. But Charlotte's mouth came down on the head of his cock and he stopped thinking entirely. Mac groaned deeply, the blindfold blocked his view of her eyes, but he knew she was staring at him. She swallowed him down easily, hitting the back of her throat each time she came forward. She was eager, going down on him with ardent. As good as she was with her hands, little Lottie was fucking perfect with her mouth.

Mac caught her hair in his fist, shoving her down repeatedly. She gagged, but moaned and kept going, sending vibrations through Mac's body. He looked again to the dog that was now standing and pacing in the kitchen, claws making distinct clicking sounds. Beast raised his head, inhaling deeply, and more of his pointed prick slid out. _Girl must smell good._

Mac used his free hand to reach down charlotte's body, ripping the thin cotton thong from her small hips. She gasped and tried to jerk back, Mac held her firmly in place, tossing the damp fabric to the animal. Beast snatched it in his jowls growling, licking, sniffing and panting over the treat. Mac brought his attention back to his rising orgasm. He loved to watch Charlotte choke on his cum, but he didn't want to spend too soon. As coils started in his stomach, Mac knew he couldn't let her stop though; instead he pushed down on her head to keep her going. She got him closer and closer until, with one soft scrape of teeth he came, shooting his load down her throat en mass.

He let her pull back when the spurts stopped. Charlotte took large gulps of air, coughing as the sticky substance coated her throat. When her face looked a little less red, Mac leaned into her.

"We're gonna play a little game," he whispered, like it was some big secret, "I think you're gonna like it." He helped her to the opposite side of the coffee table, positioning her with her arms bracing her body on the table, ass pushed out toward the dog. Her body tensed in anticipation, Mac removed his hands, taking a few steps back.

"Mac," she whined softly "don't tease." Mac chuckled.

"Don't worry, girl." Mac snapped his fingers. Beast bounded forward stopping just close enough to shove his snout in her crotch. The force of the dog pushed Charlotte forward, digging her stomach into the edge of the table. She let out a yelp that was quickly tiled by a moan as the dog worked his tongue into her silk channel. "You like that?" Mac taunted, watching the dog flick its tongue up and down the length of her sweet cunt. Charlotte whined softly arching her back. "You do like it! You disgusting little whore!" Mac barked, laughing loudly. The change was instant.

Charlotte's body tensed, she wriggled suddenly seeming terrified. She pushed her body up and dislodged the exuberant dog. _Fuck_ Mac realized his words had been taken wrong. Her whimpers weren't from pleasure; her body shaking wasn't from orgasmic bliss. She flinched when the dog came around, licking at other parts of exposed flesh. Her whole body was stiff and withdrawn. If he wanted this to continue, he'd have to fix what he'd done.

_Time to test how far she'd go._

For him.

"Hey, hey, hey," Mac sat down on the table in front of her, snapping his fingers for the dog to heel. "You liked it, c'mon." He leaned forward, kissing her temple, cheek and resting on the corner of her lips. His hands rubbed her sides, fingers slipping under her bra, caressing the smooth flesh. He could feel the resistance in her tense body and he pressed harder. His other hand slid down to pull her closer. His mouth caught hers, forcing his tongue inside the warm cavern. The front clasp of her bra gave under his fingers, baring the globes of flesh to him. It didn't take long for him to make her malleable under his ministrations, and when she was he pulled away.

"Try it again." Charlotte tensed a fraction of what he'd just relieved, and for a moment he thought he'd have to continue with his coaxing. Mac placed his hand over her shaved cunt. "Charlotte," he drew out her name, stroking her clit with the tip of his rough finger. She sucked in a harsh breath, arching her back to urge his finger deeper. His free hand braced on her stomach, feeling the muscles quiver and flex.

"Mac I-" her throat constricted, turning her next words into guttural scream as Mac slid two rough fingers as deep into her channel as they could go. The pads of the digits stroked the spongy wall, wracking her body with shivers as he touched _that_ spot inside her.

"Do it for me," he urged, sliding his thumb over her clit. His lips moved up, resting against her ear. "Let me watch him shove his cock in you. I want to see him fuck you like I want to." His words and the twisting of his fingers inside her sent a zing of electricity through her abdomen. Charlotte came hard on her brother's fingers. He smiled darkly, pulling his fingers out and placing them on her lips. Her tongue flicked out, tasting herself on his fingers. He sat back, watching as she came down from her high, suckling his fingers wantonly.

"Beast could give you a few more of those if you let him." Her eyes flashed with heat, "you felt what he could do with his tongue, imagine what his cock can do." He could see the walls crumbling in her pewter eyes.

"He'd won."

Releasing his fingers, Charlotte slumped forward, nuzzling Mac's hard stomach. Slowly, her arm came up, patting the small of her back gently.

"C'mere Beast."


	6. Chapter 6

**Ch.6**

It didn't take long for Beast to react. He was on his feet, bounding toward her before the fifth pat. She felt his full weight land on her back and his front paws wrapped tightly around her waist. "Ugh!" she gasped as the massive dog's full weight fell onto her small body. Beast began humping immediately but his hot prick was either stabbing her thighs or sliding up her ass crack. Mac shifted back on the sofa, kicking the coffee table back further. With Charlotte's body angled on his, she fell a bit as he moved, pushing her ass a little higher in the air. As soon as Beast felt his cock press between her tight cunt lips, he surged forward and buried three inches of his hot cock up her channel. He was thicker than anything Charlotte had had there, and the new pressure made her let out a sharp cry. Charlotte's cunt was being filled by dog cock, the more the animal thrust, the more it hurt. When his tip finally made it to her hymen, the dog none-to-gently shoved forward, breaking through without a care. "Mac," she cried, "it hurts." She could barely get the words out, between the pain and her body being scooted forward with each thrust.

Mac's eyes were locked on the sordid sight, electric jolts being sent by his brain to his cock. The smell of the powerful animal was pungent. Mac couldn't help grabbing his hard dick and stroking as he gazed in wonder at Charlotte's shaved cunt being stretched and pounded by the animal's shaft. Even through the incredible musk of the rutting dog, the sweet scent of Charlotte's cunt was carried into his nose. Her sweet whimpers of pain and pleasure were like music. He wished he could have been the one causing them, but the thought of having her in just a few short days, without having to go slow or be cautious was driving his perverse mind to imagine the first things he would teach her.

Beast stiffened for a moment with less than half of his shaft inside the teenager's body, his huge paws wrapped tighter around her upper torso. He let out a whimper and then rammed his huge cock into her wet cunt, burying it up to the hilt. Charlotte couldn't fathom how there could possibly be more than what had been in her, but the sudden addition made her scream again. Her eyes shot open and she moved her hands forward to brace her body against the thrust. She looked to Mac, but his eyes were staring at the connection between her and the dog. The dog hesitated, either because of her cry, or just from the pleasure of having her tight cunt wrapped around his cock and Charlotte took a couple of deep breaths and lowered her head to Mac's knee. She didn't want to look underneath her body. She didn't want to see any of it. Hadn't Mac said it would be good? It wasn't. But the look on Mac's face and the furious pace of his hand on his cock said that he was enjoying the display and that made Charlotte happy.

The animal's hesitation only lasted for a few seconds before he began pounding her as fast as he could and every time he lunged forward, has balls would swing up in an arc and slap against her burning clit. The wetness seeping from between her thighs was running down the inside of her legs as the dog fucked her wildly and she began shaking and shuddering as an orgasm ripped through her body. She moaned, but it wasn't the same as what the dog had given with its tongue, nor what Mac had done with his hands. Beast's thrusts became faster and faster and Charlotte could feel the dog's enormous shaft expanding thicker and thicker at the base as it slammed against her swollen cunt lips. Charlotte's climax was becoming unbearable as the continued stimulation of her clit made her keep cumming and her cunt was convulsing rapidly around the dog's invading cock. Beast's saliva began dribbling out of his mouth and onto her bare back as he panted faster and faster and tightened his grip around her waist until she felt like he was squeezing the air out of her lungs. Her body was rocked with the animal's thrusts and he suddenly gave a massive lunge forward and she cried out as this knot was driven into her hole. Her ass rippled with his powerful thrusts and her stomach bulged out with each inward push of Beast's thick cock and then the dog began to snort heavily as he approached his release. His prick expanded even bigger to seal her body, and then he stiffened and began to shoot his hot cum into Charlotte's battered cunt. Charlotte's orgasm lifted her even higher as she felt the hot jets hit her cervix and the massive amount of sticky dog spunk quickly filled her. She could feel the pressure increase inside her cunt as the knot tightly sealed her entrance. The warmth was almost soothing to her pained insides and slowly the pleasure returned as the dog stopped moving, allowing Charlotte to rest against her brother. Mac was cumming too, she could feel it, his hand tightening around the base of his shaft and then she felt the warm rain of Mac's cum as droplets landed on her cheek.

As Charlotte's orgasm began to fade, she rubbed one of her hands over stomach and she couldn't believe how swollen it was. The tremors that she could feel were Beast's cock as it continued to spurt out its spunk. It took about ten minutes for Beast's knot to start to deflate and Charlotte used the time to linger in that half sleep state while steadying her breathing and allowing her young body recovered from its abuse. When Beast started to move, she realized that the pressure was reducing and when he pulled free, she felt like cheering that it was over. Beast gave her one last lick before going off to the corner to lick himself clean. Mac shoved himself back in his jeans. He lifted her limp body, moving her over on the couch so that he could stand.

Charlotte wasn't sure where he went or for how long. She was pretty sure she'd lost consciousness at some point and was startled back when she felt something rough and warm touching her sensitive cunt. Her body shivered; a protest on her lips. Mac shushed her, holding her hip with one hand and using the rag to clean her with the other.

"He tore you up good," Mac muttered, holding the white rag up for her inspection. There was blood on the rag, more than she thought there should have been.

Once Mac finished cleaning her, He threw the rag to the side, and lifted her up. There wasn't much strain, Lottie didn't weigh that much. He carried her to their bed, laying her down on her side before stripping off his jeans and lying down with her. He let her cuddle up to him, her back in his front, and petted her hair softly.

"You looked hot, taking him like you did." Charlotte took his praise, as tired as she was, she smiled at him over her shoulder.

Mac was happy.


	7. Chapter 7

**Ch.7**

From her dingy mattress, Charlotte watched Mac mixing up a new batch of Meth, wrapped up in one of his button up shirts. His biceps bulged, jaw tensed as he measured out exacts of chemicals. Rick had long since left the pair of them alone, but since they'd all left the bar earlier that afternoon, Mac hadn't said more than a handful of words to her…which was odd, considering he'd reminded her nearly every few minutes that tonight was the night.

_Maybe he's gotten tired of me!_ Charlotte couldn't bear that thought. But the thought had crossed her mind since _that night_. The first night that he hadn't touched her, she'd feared that he was disgusted by her, that he was regretting ever suggesting such an act be displayed for him. She'd never divulged any of these suspicions and most had quieted after he'd tended to her wounds from Beast's paws. Even so, there was still that niggle of doubt in that dark corner of her mind.

Charlotte focused on her brother again, pulling the cigarette case Rick had given her. She stroked the jeweled crown absently. She was the princess of Cainsville, everyone knew she had Walter, Rick and even Mac wrapped around her fingers. In her own way, she ruled the 'family business' Walter had started. She did all the books for the Luna Mesa and Walter's Meth sales. To be cliché, she had the power. With a sly smile, Charlotte decided what she was going to do to completely remove all upsetting thoughts from her mind.

Mac stared down the measuring cup on the table, raising a bottle of bleach and gingerly pouring it into the cup. His mind was blank; he hadn't looked at Lottie since Rick had left. If he did, all thoughts of work would be gone. Replaced by images of what he was going to do to his little sister's sweet little body. He hadn't been able to get his mind off of the promises going home held, especially after she'd shown him the brand. And then seeing her dance today, witnessing how that lithe body moved, had his cock rock hard in his jeans. Mac wanted her so bad at this point that he'd contemplated bending her over the work table. But he'd controlled himself, or Rick had controlled him.

_"If you take her now, you'll regret it later. You can't be as…free with her here. Get her home and think of all the possibilities you have, all the different positions you can bend that supple body into."_ Rick's words-which had become a sort of mantra in the last hour-were the only thing keeping him in his pants rather than in her cunt. He didn't know how much longer that would last.

A hand came from between the crook in his arm, covering the fingers curled around the bleach bottles handle. Mac let the hand push the bottle down. Confused by Lottie's forwardness, he missed that her right hand was still free. When it landed on his jean covered crotch, he was jolted a bit.

"The hell do you think you're doing, bitch?" Charlotte giggled, stroking her yellow painted fingernails over his zipper. Mac smirked down at her hand, still over his on the bleach. Little Lottie decided to come to him, huh? Well, he couldn't disregard good behavior. What kind of master would he be if he didn't give his bitch a treat? Mac snatched her hands in his, setting the bleach down on the table, and turned, pushing her back into the supply shelf. One palm slid down her body, pressing roughly into the inseam of her shorts. Charlotte arched, whimpering prettily. "Go get in the truck," he ordered, letting her go completely, his mind raced with everything he could do to draw more of those sweet noises from her.

Charlotte's face brightened; sure her attempt at seduction had been turned on her, but she'd gotten what she wanted. With a quick kiss pressed to Mac's lips, Charlotte darted out of the cave. She got into the truck, sitting in the passenger seat anxiously watching the cave opening. Seconds ticked by, and with them Charlotte's legs began to bounce. She could hardly contain her excitement; it was nearly dripping down her thighs and soaking through her shorts. When the clock on the dashboard informed her that only two minutes had passed since she'd gotten in the car, Charlotte decided she'd have to torture Mac for making her wait so long. She slipped her hands down her taut stomach, sliding the button out and then pulling down the zipper. Her feet came out of her shoes and up to the dash; she used the leverage to pull herself lower body up so she could shimmy out of her shorts. Lying down on the bench seat of the truck, one leg dangling off the side, the other braced with the knee bent, Charlotte's hand stroked across her nude lower half, caressing her thighs softly with her fingertips. She deliberately avoided the place where she wanted to touch most, like Mac did when he played with her. When she got too impatient with her own teasing, Charlotte placed her fingertip on her clit. Her eyes fluttered closed, she became so encompassed by her ministrations that she didn't notice the time ticking, nor did she realize Mac had come out of the cave until the driver's side door opened.

"Would you look at that," he growled, pleasantly surprised. Charlotte sat up, reluctantly pulling her hand from between her thighs. She'd been close, but now that Mac was here, he'd take care of her. Mac climbed into his seat, shaking his head when Charlotte reached for her jeans. "Leave 'em." Obediently she dropped the denim and sat back in her chair. The truck rumbled to life, jerking forward. "You enjoy your birthday gift to yourself?" Charlotte smiled, sliding closer to him.

"I'll enjoy this more," she purred. Mac looked at her questioningly, opening his mouth to ask what she meant. He didn't even get the sound out before she resumed what she'd started in the canyon. She undid his belt, opening the front and pulling his cock from its binding. Mac's fingers clenched around the steering wheel, breath coming out harsher as her tongue flattened against the length.

"Fuck!" he growled, curling one hand into her long locks. She tittered, opening her mouth, swallowing him down until the head brushed the back of her throat. He tried to focus on the road, he did, but as she sucked, his foot came down harder on the gas. His fingers dug into her hair tighter as he got closer to his end. Charlotte swallowed against him, tongue swirling around him. He was right there on the edge, when blue lights reflected through the dark car, the sound of sirens slicing through the air. "Fuck!" Mac snapped, though with less pleasure. He pulled the truck to the side of the road, cursing that he was only a mile from the house while doing up his jeans. Charlotte moved quickly, pulling off the long sleeved shirt she was wearing and tucking it around her legs. Sheriff Pratt made his way to the window of Mac's truck, glaring at the youth.

"You were swerving and speeding," the elder said by way of greeting. Mac opened his mouth to tell the older man off, but Charlotte beat him to the punch.

"Evening Sheriff!" Pratt looked at her, nodding once. "You're not gonna give Mac a ticket are you?"

"I was thinkin about it," Pratt replied, frowning again at the pair.

"It's my fault he was drivin so bad," she flashed one of her brilliant smiles, the one that always worked to calm Walter down when the man was irate.

"How's that?" Mac leaned back in his seat, eager to see how she handled this.

"I started my period and Mac didn't want me bleedin all over his car." Pratt's face turned an amazing shade of red; he opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but instead tipped his hat.

"I'm letting you off with a warning, drive more carefully. Have a good night." It was pretty fascinating how fast the old fat man could run. Mac waited for Pratt to pull out, choosing to stare at Charlotte with a proud-if a bit disgusted-smirk on his face.

"Get me home, Mac, my birthday is almost over." She leaned over him, caressing his cock through his jeans and whispering in his ear, "And if you don't make me cum before midnight, you might have to wait until next year to get what you've been waiting for." Mac threw the truck into drive, liking this new found confidence blossoming in his sister.


	8. Chapter 8

**Ch.8**

"Mac, you're fucking takin too long!" Charlotte whined, staring at her brother as he stripped down. She looked to her left where the alarm clock sat on the nightstand, "you have fifteen minutes before midnight," she reminded. Mac glared at her forgoing removing his jeans and stepped up to the foot of the bed. One dark eyebrow rose in question, he took in her naked form silently, she was-as she'd always been-unabashed about her nudity in front of him. "thirteen," she chimed softly. Immediately his calloused hand shot out, rough fingers wrapping around her thin ankle. With a sharp jerk and a pop of her thigh joint, Charlotte slid down the bed until her legs were tossed over the footboard.

"You're bein impatient, though I taught you better than that?" he commented dryly. Another whine slid from Charlotte's throat, bubbling up and out before she could stop it. Her hand came up, covering her mouth, body tensing as if she expected to be hit. Mac's hands slid up her calves from her ankles and continued the outside of her thighs. "Seems though, since ya gave me a time frame and all, that I ought to give you what ya want, so I can get on to havin a little more time come round two." Charlotte's body relaxed, eyes widening as Mac's hands tightened on her ass, positioning her on the footboard, before dropping to his knees, mouth level with her bared cunt. She didn't have time to think before his tongue invaded her channel. She moaned out, hands coming down to his head, fingers gripping hair, mind unsure whether or not she should pull him back or hold him in place. The wood of the footboard dug into her back harder with each drop of her gyrating hips, a steady pain that kept the haze of impending orgasm clear enough that she could still focus.

"Two minutes," her breathy reminder had Mac's eyes flicking upward, a smile on his glossy lips as he started working double-time. Suckling, biting, kneading, every purposeful motion of his hands and mouth had her on sensory overload. The clock ticked down.

Sixty…fifty…forty

A long lick, short flick on her clit, a kiss, a sharp bite, then he'd change his routine. It was enough to have her whining, pleading with unintelligible words.

Twenty…fifteen…ten

Her back arched, spine crackling and adding to the bliss. Pleasure swept through her in tsunami sized waves, her short yellow nails dug into Mac's scalp urging him on until she burst, her scream was silent as she came. It was so dazing that she hardly noticed her body falling, the only thing between her tailbone and the thick footboard being Mac's hands as he caught her and shoved her back on the bed. Her eyes focused after a moment of silence, her brain playing catch up to the rest of her.

"Don't get comfortable, I held up my end of the bargain," Mac growled, watching her stretch her lithe frame languidly, pleased cat sounds emitting from her parted lips. Charlotte rolled with the stretch, laying on her stomach and turning her head to face her brother.

"So what's next?" the smile on her face was one of pure wicked temptation, something she couldn't possibly have learned by watching Disney movies, but the Cheshire grin of the seductresses occupying good porn mags. Mac smirked back, picking up a beer from the dresser and taking a swig. He climbed onto the bed with her, crawling over her with eyes gleaming, mind planning scenarios to completely tarnish any purity left in the girl under him. The beer hit the nightstand when her long legs curled over his hips. Missionary was outdated, but it would serve as round two and a test to how flexible baby sister really was. Her hands came down, his pants and belt were parted and hanging loose, but her hands pushed them farther until his steely erection was in her palm. She rubbed him a few times, ensuring that he was completely equipped to continue.

Mac groaned, gripping her wrists in one hand and jerking them over her head. The arm he'd braced on the bed bent at the elbow, his lips caught hers searing and dominating. Charlotte moaned grinding her lower body against his. Their bare chests slid against each other, sweaty in the heat of Cainsville evening and over-heated pleasure. She felt like all the little nerve endings in her body were being shocked, sizzling as Mac continued to pet and kiss her. He was more enthusiastic than he'd ever been, smiling lustily at her. Mac pulled up, using both hands to lock around her thighs and pull her core against his cock. The tip prodded, he looked down at her; that was all the warning he gave before driving himself in to the hilt. Charlotte imagined-briefly-that, had Beast not had her first, Mac's roughness would have brought a tremendous amount of pain. Instead, her head was tossed back in a long moan that drifted into a deep purr. Mac seemed to like that noise, falling forward on his hands, hips drawing back so only the tip was still inside and then shoving back in. Another purr, another thrust, Charlotte rocked her hips up with each plunge Mac gave. It was amazing, Mac's hands gripping at flesh, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against the backs of her thighs and calves. Her nerves were going to be completely shot after these over-sensitizing acts.

Above her, Mac grunted and growled, taking bites out of neck and leaving behind deep teeth marks. His fingers grasped and pulled at her thighs, gaining purchase and leverage. Then, suddenly, she was pulled off her back. Mac sat up, holding her on his lap. Her hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. She held still, looking into eyes identical to hers. They'd never found out how it was possible for their irises to be the same, even the internet failed to provide insight, leaving them to believe it was another sign of their fucked up family.

"Don't just fucking sit there!" Mac snapped, hand coming down on her ass. Charlotte let out a yelp, pushing up on her knees to escape the sting. His hands slid up to her hips, using his hold to guide her back down. A unison groan escaped the siblings; Mac moved her up again, than down, up, down. She was coming down harder, sinking him deeper. Her throat couldn't keep up with the sounds she wanted to make, resorting to silent gasps and lewd hums. Her core started to contract, tightening and she knew that she was close. Leaning forward, Charlotte dropped her lips to Mac's collarbone, sinking her teeth into the space like he'd done to her. She felt his cock jerk inside her, registering that he was reaching his peak as well. Not to be bettered, Mac growled, shoving Charlotte back onto the bed, pulling her legs over his shoulders and doubling his thrusts. She tried to keep up, but his pace was faster, harder, than it had been. The best she could do was hold on, nails digging into the sheets. The finale wasn't bright and blinding like it usually was, she just sort of snapped with a cry of ecstasy. She wasn't given time to bask as Mac kept going until he'd spilled his seed inside her with a groan. They fell into a mass on the sheets, Mac on his back, Charlotte laying half on him and half on the bed. She could feel him inside her, running down her thighs. She liked it, knowing that they'd finally committed the act that she'd been waiting for since…

Since she'd stopped fearing her new family and accepted that she was entirely Mac's.

Mac shifted, grabbing the beer from the night stand, his other hand stroked her hair absently. Charlotte felt like a content cat, stretching her used body against her brother's and drifting into a sated sleep.

They rutted, fucked and made love several more times before the sun came up, taking a few breaks to sleep or eat and drink. Around five a.m. they both passed out, naked, Charlotte wrapped possessively in his arms.


	9. Chapter 9

**Ch.9**

**3 years later**

Charlotte fell back against the bed, chest heaving with labored breath. To her left, Mac laid in much the same state, but the cigarette he was lighting probably didn't help. She could feel his cum running down the inside of her legs. Absently, her hand came up to lie across the ugly, pale scar running horizontal on her stomach. A year ago she'd made a mistake. It had be her fault because she was the woman and that meant that it was always her fault. Mac had fixed it though.

_Like he always did._

Apart from the mixture making her thighs sticky, no other fluid leaked out of her body. That was good. Walter didn't like when she came to work bleeding. He may not have cared about much, but health code in the bar was a priority…most of the time.

When her breathing evened out, Charlotte sat up. Sliding out of the bed at the same time that she grabbed Mac's discarded shirt, she retreated to the bathroom for a shower. She had to kick piles of clothes out of the way, making a mental note to clean up and do a little laundry when she got off work as she started to wash. Mac was moving too, he'd showered before he'd woken her up. She could hear him getting dressed and then the bedroom door closed. He'd feed Beast the leftovers from dinner the night before, before he went to work, as was the routine they'd fallen into. After her shower, Charlotte inspected her body for new wounds while she brushed her teeth. Her shoulders and lower back bore the worst of the marks, as well as her thighs. Bruises littered her arms and hips, showing just how rough Mac had gotten with her in the last few years. She wasn't precious anymore. Wasn't some prize that he worshiped and tended to. She was just Charlotte, who made him dinner and warmed his bed at night, after one his day girls took care of him at work. At least he kept her clean. So far he hadn't brought anything into their house that was permanent or disgusting. Charlotte snarled at the girl in the mirror, now nineteen, she looked worn and ragged. Her hair wasn't as springy, her eyes weren't as bright. But her body was still perfect. Minus the scars and bruises, she was still tight and lean, supple only in the right places. She liked that, she liked that she could still look in the mirror and find something she could hold on to. Her hands smoothed down her soft stomach, coming back up to cup her breasts, tweaking the nipples gently. She was still beautiful in this aspect.

It was the only thing keeping Mac in her bed.

With another grimace at the refection of her face, Charlotte shoved a hand through her wet locks and turned away. She dressed quickly, shorts and a tank with one of Mac's shirts over it. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail, keeping the wet ends off her back. She skipped breakfast and headed straight out to her truck. It was a piece of shit Ford that Walter had gotten her two years prior, when she and Mac had started working different hours and Mac could no longer be bothered driving her to town. It was smaller than Mac's big yellow rust bucket, but it got her where she needed to go. There was a note from Mac on the steering wheel when she climbed in.

_We're out of food. Go get some._ Short, to the point and anything but sweet. There were a few hundreds folded into the cassette player, sticking out so she would see them; money to get groceries. She'd stop at the general store after work. It looked like she was going to be doing a lot after work. _How fun_.

She steered the truck out of the driveway and onto the dirt road. There were three houses close to Mac's. Lowell and his new wife were the furthest away and the newest. Pratt's empty house stood looking worse for wear since the old fat man had died and finally some woman and her husband with their two kids had built a little summer place for them to come to _as a family_. The wife was fucking Walter when she was around; Charlotte had walked in on them at the Luna Mesa. Walter didn't know that though. Neither did the woman's idiot husband. The man was completely oblivious and content with his perfect little life to even notice what his wife was doing. The two kids were younger, the oldest maybe sixteen. A boy who liked to get in trouble down at the Luna Mesa, hustling games of pool against Rick. He was a stupid kid. But the girl was different. She was about fourteen, the same age as Charlotte when she'd first come to Cainsville. This girl wasn't really smart, but she was skittish, she avoided the Luna Mesa, instead she went hiking in the canyons. Not exactly smart, but she never went into the caves. She had good instincts too. Charlotte admired her, if she'd been half as observant as this girl was, she probably would have been able to escape. Charlotte hoped this girl escaped. She wasn't sure from what, yet, but she hoped the girl got away before she got caged in.

It didn't matter either way, the family wasn't there yet. They'd be coming in about another month. Probably when school let out for summer break, so the teens didn't miss anything. Charlotte shook all thoughts of the family away, they were crazy anyway. Who'd want to come to this dingy little town for summer vacation? She focused on getting to the Luna Mesa instead. It didn't take her long to pull into the drive, parking around the back. She grabbed a book out of the passenger seat before heading in to start her day. Since the new highway exit had been put in, the Luna Mesa had been getting a lot of Route 66 travelers stopping in for a "quaint family restaurant" with "authentic Mexican food". Charlotte snorted at that thought. She couldn't recall ever having seen Walter cook. She did most of that these days, since the last chef they'd had vanished mysteriously toward the end of last summer. He'd tried to feel up the girl from the family, the onetime she'd come to the bar with her brother. Walter hadn't appreciated the rude treatment in his establishment, so Rick had fixed the problem. Wasn't her big brother just the sweetest?

Walter was standing at the bar, cleaning glasses and placing them in their proper places. He did that when he was thinking about something and, sure enough, when Charlotte looked into his eyes, she could tell he was far away.

"Daddy?" she called gently, hoping to pull him out of his own mind slowly. He blinked; his hand stopped drying the glass in his hand. A small smile turned up the edge of his lips.

"Lottie," he greeted, his Spanish accent slurring her name a little. She pulled the glass out of his hand, setting it on the counter.

"What's wrong?" Walter shook his head.

"Just an old man reminiscing." Charlotte's smile widened, wrinkling her nose.

"A dirty old man reminiscing?"

Walter gave a soft chuckle, patting her cheek and turning away. She knew what he'd been thinking about, or who, really. The new woman, from the family, looked strangely like the woman in the Polaroid Walter kept so close to his heart. It wasn't really that they looked alike so much, this woman was darker in her features than the Picture-Woman, but their smiles were nearly identical. Charlotte didn't know much about the woman in the picture, Walter never talked about her, but she'd seen the picture, seen the happiness in her father's face in the image. She'd figured out years ago that whenever he got that far off look on his face, he was returning to that moment, forever frozen in time. It was sad really, that he loved her so much. Back when she was still young and naïve, Charlotte had hoped that Mac would love her like that. Now she knew that that kind of love was almost as painful as the kind of love she suffered now. She wanted her own pain to stop. She couldn't imagine what Walter hopped for his anguish.


	10. Chapter 10

**Ch.10**

**2 years later**

Charlotte stood before her father, staring at the account books of his Meth deals. She hadn't said much since she'd shown up that morning. She had new scratches and a bruise that hadn't been there when she'd left work the night before. Walter could see them; he knew that Mac had been the one to deal out the punishment. It didn't stop him from feeling a twinge of guilt and worry for his daughter.

"He looks as bad as I do." Her voice was soft, but Walter understood. It hadn't been an angry Mac that had inflicted the marks, but a couples quarrel. He accepted her justification with a sigh. She'd changed so much in the seven years since she'd been dropped in Cainsville; even more in the last two. Her strange pewter eyes, once bright, had dulled significantly with every new scar. Her multi-colored hair wasn't nearly as lustrous, becoming limp and stringy. She was still beautiful, but the bags under her eyes made her look older than her twenty years. The scars she'd accumulated over the last four years were the worst of it. Since she and Mac had started having sex, she'd started showing up to the Luna Mesa with bite marks, scratches, bruises, cuts. Charlotte never went into detail on them and Mac, to Walter's knowledge, didn't pay them any mind.

"You're missing money." Again, Charlotte's even voice broke through the silence of the empty bar. She was looking up at him now, arms resting on the counter, propping her body up. Her lithe frame stretched out, spine arched. With all the faults, Charlotte had never let her body falter. She was meticulous about keeping her supple body tight in all the right places, for Mac mostly, but Walter suspected she'd come to like the long stares she got from the travelers that passed through the bar and even from the men in town that thought they didn't fear Mac.

"What do ya mean?" His voice was gruff, thick with his Spanish accent. He came around the counter, shoving a stool out of the way to make room to stand by his daughter's side.

"By the logs, sales have gone up, however," she pointed out the lines that illustrated her words, "your total income, after restocking supplies in the canyon, is lower than it was last month and it shouldn't be." She gave Walter time to read over what she'd explained, hiking herself up onto a stool on her left.

"Could your math be wrong?" Charlotte took a little bit of offence to that question, but didn't hold it against her father. He was irritated, knowing it had to be one of the few people he'd let in to the business that had smuggled the money. The question wasn't too outrageous, anyway. She'd only attended school until she was fourteen and came to Cainsville; then she'd taken up her education in the Luna Mesa and the canyons. She'd taught herself the math needed to do Walter's accounting, using her basic algebra skills as a base for the new techniques, because she'd wanted to be useful and part of the 'family business', but other than that, nothing. Walter nodded once, "Neva mind." It was the closest thing to an apology she was going to get.

"I can call Mac, if you want, and Rick. They can start looking into Lowell and Tanner."

Another nod of ascent from Walter.

"Good." He wasn't outwardly showing any signs of anger, but that alone told Charlotte more than his yelling ever could. Whoever was trafficking Walter's money wasn't going to live much longer. She thought about it as she headed to the backroom where Walter kept the personal phone. Lowell wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he had a pregnant wife and an alcohol problem. The extra money would give him a safe guard for a few more months. Tanner, on the other hand, had the means and motive to take the money. Mac was constantly berating the guy, treating him like shit. Even more so after he caught Tanner talking about Charlotte, detailing which positions he'd like to have her in. Surely Tanner wouldn't try something so incredibly stupid.

Charlotte dialed the number for the auto repair garage, Barney answered. His voice was rough with age. The old black man had been around, Mac had said once, since before he was born, ranging somewhere from fifty-seventy. He was a sweet man, always nice and flirty-in that way old men were.

"Well, if it ain't Little Lottie, what's a pretty girl doin callin an old man?" Charlotte giggled, wrinkling her nose with a smile, even though the man couldn't see her.

"I'm calling for Walter, is Mac around?" Barney chuffed.

"Mac's always getting calls from all the pretty girls; nobody ever calls for Ol' Barney." The man's grumbling grew quite as he moved from his office to find her brother. Charlotte tried to brush off his comment about _all_ the pretty girls that called Mac as the ramblings of an old man, but it still stung.

"What?" Mac's voice startled Charlotte.

"Walter-" her voice cracked a little, she cleared her throat and continued, "Walter needs you to come by. It's important."

"The fuck does that bastard want?" Mac barked. Lottie was thankful he couldn't see her roll her eyes. Why couldn't he just say 'yes Charlotte, I'll be there at lunch'? _Cause that would be too easy for Mac_.

"It's about the canyons," she answered vaguely, there was a chance that someone was listening in, Walter had taught her that, and if someone was listening, they could turn…well, they could pretty much turn the whole of the town in for drug cooking and trafficking. For a few breaths, Mac was silent.

"I'll be there," he grunted. The dial tone was a clear indication that the conversation was over.

"Kay Mac, see you soon," Charlotte muttered bitterly, dropping the phone onto its cradle.

Charlotte returned to the main room to see Walter drying glasses with a rag. His dark brown eyes were unfocused, staring at a few pictures tacked to a wooded pillar next to the bar. She knew which picture he was most drawn to. It was in the center of the collage, an old Polaroid, faded and discolored at the edges, but the actual picture was unharmed. The younger version of her father smiled brightly in the picture, one arm wrapped around a pleasantly plump blonde woman wearing his favorite cowboy hat over her pretty curls. Her captured image was laughing, making her dimples stand out. She was absolutely beautiful, but she'd left Walter for her parents' choice of husband and moved out of the small town to start a precious family. Walter had never really gotten over the loss of the pretty blonde.

"Mac'll be here soon," Charlotte proclaimed softly, careful not to jar Walter too badly from his memories. Walter nodded once, placing the glass on shelf and picking up another.

"Good girl." Charlotte stood for a moment, looking around the empty bar before returning her gaze to the Polaroid. She'd never learned the woman's name, she thought idly. She grabbed the rag dangling from the apron around her hips, pushing the blonde lady aside and began dancing around the bar, wiping down tables and humming to herself.

It was eleven when she'd gone into the back to call Mac. By one, Charlotte had finished wiping down the tables, setting up the chairs and center napkin and condiments holder. She'd moved on to arranging the liquor bottles under the counter for Walter, when Mac sauntered in, slamming the door against the wall as an announcement. He wasn't nearly as good at keeping his anger discrete as Walter was. Mac was furious; it was visible on every part of his being as he stomped up to the bar in front of Walter and slammed his fists down.

"What the hell do you want old man?" Charlotte handed her father the account books, keeping her head angled at the bottle of Southern Comfort in her hand. Walter didn't bother to give Mac time to look over the numbers; it would be pointless, Mac had less schooling than Charlotte.

"We're three grand short."

"There's no fucking way, Rick and I have been in the canyon every night, we laid more bricks than we ever have!"

Charlotte decided now would be the best time to step in. If those two kept at it, nothing would get done and both men would be uncompromising and violent. "You and Rick should look into Tanner first. I'll look into Lowell's bank account, but I don't think he's the one running the money." Mac turned his rage on her.

"You don't _think_? Who fucking asked you?" His hand came across the bar, wrapping around her arm to jerk her forward. The bottle of Southern Comfort hit the floor, shattering and spilling the amber liquid across the floor. To her credit, Charlotte didn't make a sound. It only made things worse when she whined. Walters's hand came down on Mac's wrist, squeezing until Charlotte could hear the bones grind together. Mac let go, but Walter didn't ease up. He twisted his son's arm behind his back until Mac's shoulder gave a sick popping sound.

"You don't get to touch her when I'm around," Walter growled, shoving Mac's face against the bar top for emphasis. Mac snarled and spit, but his father was much stronger than anyone ever gave him credit for. "Who the hell do you think you are, beating on your girl? You stupid bastard, I raised you better than that!" It was Charlotte who finally stepped in, coming around the bar to place a hand on her father's shoulder.

"Daddy, that's enough." Her voice was soft, but that was generally what got her more attention. Yelling only caused more yelling, but keeping a level head and calm attitude got more responsiveness. Walter frowned; slamming Mac's face into the counter top, and then let him go.

"Go fucking figure out who has my money!" Walter ordered. Mac straightened, wiping blood from his mouth. He sent a glare to Charlotte as he passed her for the door.

"You're gonna get it when you get home." Charlotte didn't acknowledge the threat, if she gave him head when they got home, he'd be happy again. The door slammed shut behind her brother and Charlotte turned to head back behind the bar to clean the liquor that had spilled.

"Leave it." Walter indicated with his hand to the puddle. "Start working on hacking Lowell's bank account." Charlotte nodded, untying her apron and hanging it over a bar stool.

"I'll call if I find anything." With that she left, climbing into the shit Ford Walter had gotten her for her twenty-first birthday. It started after a few tries and Charlotte put it in gear, steering out of the parking lot and onto the dirt road. She headed toward home, thinking about all that she'd have to do when she got there. It wasn't hard to hack into bank accounts, especially in Cainsville. She wondered though, if Tanner really did take the money, what did he get from it?

It didn't take her long to get from the Luna Mesa to home. She could see it as she turned off the main road and onto what should have been called a neighborhood. Charlotte maneuvered the car slowly over the bumpy dirt road and came to an abrupt halt as she saw another car parked in her spot next to Beast's cage. The other car was completely black, windows tinted so much that she couldn't see the interior. There was a symbol on the side of the SUV, a circle with a strange looking bird shape. She couldn't read the words, but the man leaning against the open driver's side didn't look like a lost traveler.

She pulled the truck into Mac's usual spot, pulling the small handgun from under her seat. She watched the man as she searched for the gun. He was staring at Beast, frowning. She looked to the words on the side of the SUV, they were clear now and Charlotte realized, whoever took Walter's money had a lot more in store for the old Hispanic man.


	11. Chapter 11

**Ch. 11**

Charlotte hopped out of the truck, tucking the handgun into the waistband of her jeans, underneath her shirt. Beast was barking madly, the sound louder now that she was out of the truck. The man looked up at her as she came around her truck. He was wearing sunglasses, but she could tell that he didn't look at her like most men in town did. He watched her as she walked toward him, but he didn't watch her hips or stare at her breasts. She could tell that he was staring directly into her eyes, she could feel it.

And that scared her more than the alternative.

"Can I help you?" she called out, faux sweetness in her voice. She stopped several feet away from him, making sure that if he tried to grab her, she had plenty of time to pull out her gun before he could get her. The man straightened, pushing his sunglasses into his black hair, a friendly grin on his lips. Charlotte didn't trust it, or maybe she didn't trust those blue eyes. Either way, she didn't return the smile.

"Afternoon miss…" he let the sentence hang, one eyebrow quirked up a little. She didn't take the bait.

"Who are you?" The smile dropped a little, those sky blue eyes hardening a little. He stepped forward, closing the door to the SUV. Charlotte's hand moved to the gun.

"Don't bother." Her hand paused, her eyes shot to his again. Her lips curled into a frown, all politeness gone completely. "I doubt you have a permit for it anyway. I wouldn't want to have to arrest you for _that_." There was a joke in his tone, like her threatening him with a gun was some kind of funny. "I'm Special Agent Neo Beckett, and you are Charlotte Devereaux."

_Devereaux_.

She hadn't heard that in…in years. That was her name wasn't it? But no one had called her that since she'd arrived in Cainsville.

"And just what makes you so damn special?" Charlotte snapped. How dare this man come here and make her…

_what did he do? Make her remember? Was that really all?_

Agent Beckett chuckled. "Miss Devereaux, I'm sorry to show up like this. I'm looking for your brother, Mac."

"He's working, like he does every day, at the _garage_." She stressed the word. This _Special Agent _wouldn't be here if he didn't already know about the meth, but that didn't mean Charlotte was gonna cave right away. She wasn't going to cave at all. Whatever this guy knew or found out, it wasn't from her.

"Right," he drew out the word in that way that said he didn't believe her. "Where's the garage then? This town is a little confusing." Charlotte rolled her eyes. There was nothing in their little town. She stayed silent; Beast's barking was even louder now, in the silence of the empty land.

"Beast shut up!" Charlotte snapped suddenly. The dog yelped and whined, but settled at the edge of his cage, growling threateningly.

"Obedient," Agent Beckett commented, looking over his shoulder at the cage and then back at her.

"You shouldn't be here."

"I admit, I generally don't like appearing at a woman's home without being invited, but given the circumstances-"

"In Cainsville," she interrupted. "You shouldn't be in Cainsville. You won't find whatever you're looking for." She sighed, pushing her greasy hair out of her face, "No one ever does." The last part was said quieter, but Beckett seemed to hear her.

"Miss Devereaux-"

"Charlotte," she interrupted again.

"Charlotte," he repeated, "Maybe you could take me to the garage."

"You can't be serious," she snorted, shaking her head in disbelief. "You really think I'm gonna give up my family? I know what you're after and whoever told you, it wasn't me and it won't ever be me. So _Special Agent_, you can leave now. You have no reason to be here." His hazel eyes softened again, and this time he did look her over. She could see the pity bloom there; she knew what he saw-she saw it every day in the mirror.

"Charlotte, you should know that-" She held up her hand, brushing it back through her hair when he stopped.

"Just leave." She glared at him as he flicked his sunglasses back down. His face hardened. Gone was the laughter and pity, replaced by someone fully deserving the title Special Agent.

"Miss Devereaux, we will get what we came for. It's only a matter of time. Your help would be appreciated and it would provide options for you. There are programs; we can get you out of here."

"Is that what you promised Lowell?" His frown flickered sympathy, he gave a slow shake of his head as he climbed into the SUV. Charlotte didn't move until Beckett was completely out of sight. She couldn't afford to hope for his promises to be true. She'd given up that dream a long time ago. Some days she couldn't even remember if she'd ever _really_ believed that she could escape. Charlotte looked to Beast, still sitting against the cage wall; the dog had aged quite a bit since _that night_. He was graying around the muzzle; his eyes were a little less bright. At the same time though, she was a lot older too…or at least, she looked older and definitely felt older.

Charlotte glared at the dog, turning on her heel and heading into the house. She'd have to call Walter, tell him that their problem just got worse. She moved around through the house, not wanting to make the call. Mac would be home soon, she could tell him when he got there, but that would just piss him off more. And Walter. If she didn't tell someone now, they'd just assume that she was withholding from them. She picked up the phone, dialing the number for the Luna Mesa. Better to get it over with now. Deal with Walter and Mac one at a time. Then she could start hacking Lowell's account.

_Lowell_.

He'd always been so sweet, before he'd started drinking. But the look on the Agent's face when she'd said Lowell's name told her all she needed to know.

Lowell Pratt was the traitor.

She knew why. He hadn't taken it well when his father had died. The sheriff had been found dead in his home, face deep in pussy and an empty brick of his favorite drug. He'd missed his son's wedding; that had been what initially sent Lowell hunting. The funeral had been quick and empty, like all the funerals in Cainsville. After that, Lowell had changed. He came around the Luna Mesa more often. He'd taken his father's position as sheriff. He'd given Mac more tickets than Pratt ever had. It had only been a matter of time before he'd turned them in for the canyons.

_But if that were true, why hadn't they seen it coming?_


	12. Chapter 12

**Ch.12**

Mac stormed into the house later that night, looking even more furious than he had when he'd left the bar. Charlotte was standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, when he came. She didn't move, instead she chose to watch the irate man fume and curse. _It was actually pretty amusing_. When she let out a little huff of laughter, Mac turned on her. He approached quickly, pinning her to the counter and looming over her. He'd lost the intimidation factor over the years, when she'd started fighting back. His bark was worse than his bite and her teeth had always been sharper. Rick had been right, Mac liked to keep his toys in playable condition. Still, she didn't revel in how the counter was digging into her back at that moment.

"You think this is fucking funny?" Charlotte shook her head.

"What's wrong now? You heard about the DEA right?" Mac growled, so she figured he'd heard. "So then what's got you so mad?"

"That little prick that hustles pool during the summer," his eyes met hers, she figured to give her a second to recall him. She nodded, bringing her hand up to curl her fingers in the short hair at the base of Mac's neck. Her dull nails scratched idly against his skin, a motion that usually kept him languid after sex. Now it just served to make his tense muscles loosen. _It was a start_. Her voice lowered a bit, if she could relax him, it would be better for everyone.

"What about him?" Her attention was working. The stress of everything that had happened since that morning was wearing on them both, but with Mac, everything was always at a ten level. The situation was wearing on him a lot faster than it was everyone else. Mac's arms bent, his head resting on her shoulder. He was sweaty, smelled like grease and oil. It was comforting, almost.

"He's another one." It took her a minute to process that one. His muffled voice coupled with the strange phrase. But she got it. The stupid kid with his perfectly fucked up family was one of them; another of Walter's kids. _He was their half-brother_.

"Jesus Christ," she muttered. Her free arm came to rest on the counter, bearing their weight so that her back wasn't pressed into the hard edge. They stayed like that, in silence. There were too many things happening at once. The DEA was going to be on their ass for who knew how long, one of their own was the one that turned on them and now they had another sibling to bring into the mess. _Had Walter already told this boy? How long had Walter known? _So many things were going through her head; she couldn't catch onto to one thought for any length of time.

"What about the girl?" Mac's head moved, his body straightening so that he could tower over her again.

"Who?"

"The girl, the sister of the little prick…" She tried to think of a way to make Mac remember. "The little thing, always in the canyons on that dirt bike." Mac looked thoughtful for a moment before he nodded. But his lack of memory was answer enough.

"Walter didn't say anything about her." Charlotte's heart eased a little, _she was safe_. The phone rang, disturbing their little bit of peace. Mac pushed off the counter, moving away to the phone mounted on the wall. He answered it and Charlotte left the room, deciding that that was the best time to start looking into Lowell's bank account. Her laptop was in the bedroom, charging on her nightstand. She slid onto the bed, pulling the laptop onto her lap and opening it. The screen came up and she worked quickly, opening her programs and the internet. It didn't take long to have Lowell's account history shooting to the printer on the dresser. After that, she opened up all the records she could get on Neo Beckett. He'd been…strange when he'd been at the house. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something about him was off.

She read through every document she could find though and nothing came up. The man was clean, not completely-he had several speeding tickets from his early teen years. But he didn't have anything past that. God, was it possible to be that…innocent? Some of the shit Mac's done in the last six years could put him away for several lifetimes. Add that to the little charges and his sentence would probably equal that of all the residents of Cainsville. Walter's would be even longer. That thought made her smile, what would Walter do if he couldn't get his dick wet whenever he wanted? He'd probably go crazy.

"Come on." Mac's voice drew her out of her thoughts. The sky through the window was darker than when she'd sat down. The room was almost black, the only lights coming from her laptop and illuminating her face and the dim light from the kitchen shining behind Mac.

"Where are we going?" Charlotte stood, stretching her arms above her head until her shoulders popped.

"Canyons, Rick said there was gonna be a party…you know, to relax a little." Charlotte nodded, stepping into Mac's arms. He was being unusually cuddly considering how angry he'd been that morning, and when he'd come home for that matter. She figured it was because he was so angry, he didn't feel like directing it at someone he couldn't beat. She'd accept it while it lasted.

They climbed into Mac's truck. She was watching out the window, looking at the dark houses as they passed. Lowell's, then his father's and finally…the summer home. But the summer home wasn't dark, like it should have been. There was a light in the one of the windows, the living room for the glimpse she got, but there weren't any cars in the driveway. Mac passed the house before she could get a better look, but she was sure that she'd one of the dirt bikes leaning against the garage door. That was usually the sign that the family was there.

_Why had Walter decided to tell Mac about their newest half-brother today, with everything else going on?_


	13. Chapter 13

**Ch.13**

"Mac," Charlotte murmured, looking around in the darkness of the canyon surroundings. She'd learned where everything was in the desert, could tell when something was out of place, or when there was an animal hiding out. But since they'd passed the summer house, a feeling of unease had settled in the pit of her stomach. It had tightened her gut with every mile they drew closer to the canyon. Something was wrong, out of place, but even with her extensive knowledge of Cainsville desert, she couldn't place the cause of the feeling.

"What?" Mac growled and Charlotte realized she hadn't continued her thought out loud. She blinked a few time, eyes adjusting oddly to the darkness out the window and the bright light in the truck. She looked to her brother, reaching out for his hand on the steering wheel. Reaching out for some of the comfort she'd offered him earlier. He didn't privilege her with such a treat. Instead, he moved away, grabbing her arm and jerking her across the bench seat. The hand on her arm curled in her greasy hair, snapping her head up so her eyes met his directly.

"It's a party, lighten the fuck up." He let her go, nearly throwing her away from him. With a sigh, she climbed out of the truck. Her stomach tightened to the point of momentary pain so intense she had to lean against the truck to catch her breath. When Mac came around, she straightened, not wanting him to see her in pain. Her hand remained on her stomach as she walked with Mac into the cavern. They didn't need light to navigate through the tunnel; for the most part they followed the thrumming base of the music Rick had playing in the open space. When they stepped into the room, Charlotte took a step back into the shadows as the flood lights Rick had set up for lighting blinded her. As her eyes adjusted, she took stock of who was in the cave. Most of the time, when there was a "party" in the canyon, it was just Rick, a few of the local whores, Mac and herself. But this time, it was different. Mac was standing by Rick behind the work table and Lowell was reclining on the dirty mattress with a girl in his arms. At first Charlotte thought the girl was Lowell's wife Nora. But the girl rolled over, throwing long black hair over her shoulder.

Nora was a platinum blonde.

Charlotte stepped further into the open room, walking over to her brothers. Rick handed her a beer, which she accepted absently, taking a long sip. Mac gave her a sly smile, wrapping his arms around her waist, turning her body so she could watch Lowell roll around the mattress with the strange, dark haired girl. _Who had hair that color in town?_ Charlotte couldn't place it. The pain in her gut was making her head fuzzy. Mac urged her to take another, longer, pull from the beer. She did, as Mac ran kisses up and down her neck.

"That's it," Rick's voice sounded far away, his image blurred as he moved toward her, stroking a hand over her cheek. Charlotte blinked, shaking her head against the wave of dizziness washing over her. She turned in Mac's arms, looking up at him. He was grinning wildly. She recognized that look. She hadn't seen that look in five years.

Mac was planning something.

"You fucking drugged me?" she slurred, stumbling out of his arms. She caught her body on her table, nearly knocking the surface over as she collided more solidly than she meant to. Rick reached out, grasping her chin and turning her head toward the girl and Lowell. He leaned in close.

"I remember," he started, his husky smokers' voice rasping against her skin as soundly as his rough fingers. "Watching you and Mac like that, all those years ago." He laughed, like the whole thing was one big joke her foggy mind couldn't understand. Mac laughed with him. Charlotte forced her mind through the muddy mess in her brain, straining her eyes at the dark haired body of the other girl. It clicked.

_Summer girl_.

The one in the cage.

The one who was safe because she wasn't related to them.

Charlotte wanted to scream as Lowell tore the poor girl's shirt down the front. How could this be happening? What were they even doing here? Had they been in town all along? Was the DEA agent's visit that distracting? There were so many questions running through Charlotte's head but the drugs were making it hard to focus. She felt tears on her cheeks though and turned to Mac.

"Anything," she choked out, "I'll do anything just let her go." Mac and Rick shared another laugh. The girl let out a little, startled cry. Charlotte didn't want to know what was happening. She clutched onto Mac's shirt, staring into eyes identical to hers. "Please Mac, please, let her go!"

"I think it's time we showed her why we're really here," Rick urged, coming up behind Charlotte and prying her fingers off of Mac's shirt. Mac helped him and then moved around the table. Rick turned them so that they were watching the pair on the mattress as Mac came up. He threw Lowell off the mattress, taking the other man's place on top of the helpless girl. Charlotte noticed a beer bottle as it fell over, rolling across the stone floor. The girl was drugged too. "Mac was missing your pussy. Missing the days when you used to get wet for him _so _easily." She tried to look away. Even her muddled mind could tell what was going to happen next. Rick held her chin, forcing her to watch as Mac ripped the young girls skirt up her hips, her simple panties coming down her legs to tangle on one ankle. Mac wasn't gentle this time. The girl screamed and squealed, thrashing wildly beneath him. But her fighting just spurred him on. Her hand came up, dragging nails down his cheek, tearing through the skin and leaving thin red trails in their wake. Mac groaned, doubling his thrusts as he got closer to his peak. Charlotte shook Rick's hand from her face, turning away from the brutal scene. Lowell was sitting back on his hunches, smoking a joint and watching enviously as Mac fucked the young girl. Rick was laughing, plumes of sweet smelling smoke escaping his lungs as he too smoked on of the stronger joints he and Mac concocted. Charlotte slid down to the floor, Rick let her drop. Tears were coming faster now, as every horrible thing Mac did to the poor girl played behind her eyes in slow motion. Her screams echoed the cavern of her mind like they did the stone cave walls. Charlotte sobbed louder, Rick laughed louder, Mac grunted louder. Everything increased in volume tenfold.

With one final scream from the girl, everything went black.


	14. Chapter 14

**Ch.14**

Charlotte woke up in a place…completely opposite of where she'd fallen asleep. It took her a minute to figure out where she was. The uncomfortable couch she was spread across told her though. She was in Walter's office and from the light pouring in through the blinds she could tell that it was well into the morning. She'd been asleep since she'd passed out in the cave.

The cave…

Flashes passed through her mind when she shut her eyes. God…what had Mac done? Why had he done it? The girl's screams echoed through her head. Charlotte shot up on the couch as something dawned on her. _What had happened to the girl_? Mac must have brought Charlotte to Walter's, but had anyone taken care of the girl? Was she still in the cave, strewn across that filthy mattress? She'd be confused and in pain. Cold probably, and alone, lost in the desert.

Charlotte forced her lethargic body off the sofa. Her head protested, the after effects of whatever her brothers' had used to spike her drink was making her stomach roil and her head hurt. She couldn't let that stop her though. _She had to go after the girl_. She passed by a mirror, mounted on the wall, as she headed for the door. Her hair looked disgusting, hanging limp and greasy around her face, much the same as the day before. Her face was gaunt, probably from horrible drug induced sleep. And she remembered what Rick had said the night before. The memory was hazy, making her dizzy again just recalling it.

_Mac missed her younger self_.

He missed the girl who'd been meticulous about her appearance. The girl who worked for his attention, rather than fighting him off. _Had she been the reason that poor girl had suffered?_ All because she didn't wasn't as horny as she'd been at sixteen? At fourteen? Mac had never been so violent with her in the beginning, not like he'd been in the cavern the night before. If she thought hard about it, the girl did resemble Charlotte when she'd been that age. The dark hair and bright eyes, the ever present smile she had. Had Charlotte smiled at that age? She couldn't remember. Had Mac done all this as some sick need to act out a fantasy he'd had about Charlotte? Had he always wanted to that to her, only holding back because of Walter's rules? Charlotte turned away from the mirror, jerking open the door and stomping into the bar.

It was empty; her dramatic entrance going unnoticed. She didn't stop to think about it. Instead she continued out of the bar to the parking lot. It only took her a second looking out into the empty dirt lot to figure out that her car wasn't there. "Fuck!" she screamed, knowing no one could hear her. She returned to the bar, thinking about what she could do to fix this situation. She couldn't call Rick, he wouldn't help. Lowell would be her first choice, but considering that he'd been in the cavern the other night. She stopped to analyze that. Lowell had a wife. A pregnant wife who loved him more than anything else. Nora came in sometimes to the Luna Mesa for lunch. She was the sweetest woman in Cainsville, always smiling and talking about the baby. Charlotte loved her bright personality. She didn't want to think about the husband Nora loved so much cheating on her with the younger sluts that hung around. It would tear Nora apart. Charlotte shook her head, putting those thoughts into a drawer for later. She refocused on the task at hand. Mac wouldn't come get her and she didn't want to see him yet either. She had some serious things she wanted to talk to him about, but the girl was more important. So who did that leave?

_Barney or Tanner?_

She couldn't think about ever seeing Barney drive a car, but she knew he had one and he'd do anything for her. He wouldn't ask questions either, which would be better. Tanner drove all over town, showing off his hot little Mustang, but he'd ask a lot of questions. She could keep him quiet though, if she gave him a baggie of his drug. He'd hit on her though; ask for some kind of _favor_ in return for his effort. She picked up the mounted phone, dialing the number for Barney's auto garage.

"Hey pretty girl, Mac's not here." He replied in a lighter tone after she'd greeted him. She smiled, like she always did when Barney called her sweet names.

"I'm not lookin for Mac this time Barney. I need a favor." No point beating around the bush. Barney's voice turned serious.

"Something for Walter?"

"No, something that would have to stay between you and me."

"Whatcha need sweetheart?" That was the only question he asked her as she gave a brief explanation of what she needed and the situation. "I'll be there in five, sweetheart." The dial tone was the next thing she heard. She smiled, _she was definitely still the princess_. She turned away from the bar, heading back out the doors to sit on the little wood porch of the dilapidated building her father used as his bar. She'd never really thought about it since she'd first come here, but everything in the little town was ramshackle. She couldn't understand how she'd come to accept this life. It seemed like she was seeing the town in a whole new light brought upon by some pathetic little girl subjected to Mac's perverse nature.

Charlotte paused, that thought scaring her. _How could she have been so blind?_

A car pulled into the dirt lot. A sputtering old Thunderbird that had seen better days a few decades ago. Barney smiled at her, his bald head shining in the direct sunlight the convertible provided. Charlotte returned the look, sliding in to the passenger seat.

"Where to?"

"The canyons." He nodded, making a U-turn in the lot and speeding onto the road toward the caves.


	15. Chapter 15

**Ch.15**

They pulled up in front of the cave and Charlotte was out of the car before Barney had it fully stopped. She told him to wait there as she ran into the cave. The tunnel was a lot brighter with the days light shining in, not completely illuminated, but enough that she could run a little faster to the open room. There were beer bottles everywhere, she tripped on a few as she came in, filling the cavern with the sound of clinking glass. Clothes were strewn about too, a skirt hung off the edge of the table, remnants of what was probably a bra and panties spread about the cave floor. The girl's shirt was still near her prone body on the mattress, but Charlotte didn't take much notice as she fell next to the girl.

"Hey, summer girl, hey!" She called, shaking the girl's small form. The girl groaned, whined and then tensed. Charlotte knew that the space between her thighs was probably aching and throbbing dully. The poor girl's head was probably doing the same. She kept shaking her though, waiting for her light green eyes to open. "I need you to wake up now," Charlotte demanded, shaking the little girl a little harder. She whined again, her hand twitching on her stomach. Then her body jerked, forcing itself upright as her eyes shot open, hands coming out to ward off an attacker. Charlotte fell back, startled by the girl's sudden movement. She knew that feeling though; her body was catching up with what her mind had wanted to do while she was drugged. "Easy," Charlotte cooed, grabbing the girl's shoulders and pulling her back against her chest. "Easy sweetheart, you're okay now." She brushed the girl's hair back soothingly, whispering reassuring things too her until she calmed into body wracking sobs. "We need to go now. I can take you somewhere and we can get you fixed up. I promise, you'll be safe with me, but we need to go now." Charlotte stood, easing the crying girl up with her and out of the cave. They got to Barney's car and the old man stayed silent as Charlotte seated the younger girl in the back seat.

"Where to?" he asked again. Charlotte thought about it. She'd said somewhere safe, but in all honesty, she didn't even know a safe place in Cainsville.

"You said Mac wasn't at the garage, do you know where he is?" Barney frowned, stretching his neck and humming thoughtfully.

"Out taken care of business with Walter would be my guess. They left the garage together early this morning."

"Drive by my place, we'll stop if Mac isn't there." Barney nodded, putting the old car into gear and pulling back onto the makeshift road. The girl stayed quiet, occasionally letting out a little sob, but for the most part her crying settled.

"Who's she?" Barney asked voice low and rumbly. Charlotte looked to the backseat, frowning at the girl. She didn't look up, keeping her head on her knees and her arms wrapped around herself. "You don't know do you?" Charlotte shot a glare at the old black man.

"I've been calling her summer girl," Charlotte replied slightly perturbed that she didn't know the girl's real name. "Her family comes for the summers." Barney shrugged one large shoulder, shaking his head with a soft chortle.

"Should probably find that out soon." Charlotte nodded. They stayed silent as they continued the drive. When Barney pulled down the street Mac's house was on, he slowed. They passed the house once, checking for Mac's beat up yellow truck. Charlotte's was alone in the driveway though. Barney made another U-turn, pulling the Thunderbird next to Charlotte's truck. "You need anything else you call me, okay?" Barney asked as Charlotte helped the younger girl out of the car. She nodded, turning away and heading inside. Beast barked as they passed, scaring the girl. Charlotte petted her hair, pushing her head down so she wouldn't see the vicious animal. They were in the house before Charlotte let the girl go, setting her on the overly soft sofa in the living room.

"I'm gonna get you some water. It'll help with the headache." She left the girl there, watching her out of her peripheral vision in case she freaked out again. She returned with a small glass of water, placing it in the girl's hand. "Small sips," she murmured, lifting the girl's hand, and the cup, to her lips. The girl took control when the cold glass touched her lips, taking a dainty sip of the liquid. "What's your name?"

"Julianne." The girl's voice was horse, probably from all the sobbing.

"Charlotte," the older girl replied, taking the now empty glass and setting it on the coffee table. "Come on, I'll get you some clothes and you can take a shower. I'll take you back to your house when you're cleaned up." Her body tensed again. Her green eyes flicked up to Charlotte's pewter ones.

"What am I supposed to tell my family?" she asked pitifully, tears coming back to her eyes.

"You don't tell them anything," Charlotte shrugged, "The likely hood that they would believe you is slim. You won't even pass a drug test at this point, which is the first thing any hospital is gonna check."

"What?" Julianne whimpered. Charlotte pulled her off the couch, leading her down the hall to the bedroom as she explained what happened the night before. Julianne didn't say anything as Charlotte recanted the story. She didn't say anything as Charlotte urged her into the bathroom or when Charlotte told her that there were clothes laid out on the bed. Charlotte figured the girl wouldn't be out of the shower for a while and didn't disturb her for the next thirty minutes. She checked on the younger girl a few times, silently slipping into the bathroom to make sure the girl hadn't done anything rash and then slinking back out. She made a few sandwiches, assuming Julianne was probably hungry and sat on the couch, waiting for the girl to come out.

When Julianne finally emerged, Charlotte directed to her to the kitchen with a wave of her hand. She listened as the younger girl munched on the food, joining her a few moments later.

"Look, what happened…I know you're gonna wanna talk to someone about it. If it gets to be too much, come to me." Charlotte reached out, touching the younger girl's hand and squeezing softly. "Just make sure that there's just my car in the drive. I'm not sure what Mac would do-"

"You know that psycho? You live with him?" Julianne nearly shrieked, she pushed away from the table, sending her chair clattering to the floor.

"He's my brother." Charlotte left out the rest. The girl didn't need to be overwhelmed. "You need to sit back down," her voice got a little fiercer as she glared at the girl towering over her.

"You were there…" the thought seemed to just dawn on the younger girl as she remembered how vividly Charlotte had retold the events of the previous night.

"Yes," Charlotte admitted, "I didn't know what they were planning."

"You could have stopped them!"

"And I would have risked my life." The pair stayed silent, glaring the other down as that comment hung in the air. They were at a stalemate.

"And your life is so _fucking _important?" Julianne spat. There was another pause and when Charlotte didn't reply, the younger girl pushed away from the table, storming out of the house. Charlotte didn't go after her, she flinched when the door slammed, but didn't move from her chair. Her life wasn't that important, she knew that. But that didn't matter, because she could at least do something useful before she died; something a little more meaningful than saving some little cunt from getting raped. She started planning as she sat there, waiting for Mac to return. Yeah, she'd do something significant.

She'd make her last days count, or she'd die trying.


	16. Chapter 16

**Ch.16**

Charlotte was still sitting at the kitchen table when Mac came home. The stove clock told her it was well after midnight, as the near empty bottle of whiskey in her hand should have told her not to engage Mac while she was intoxicated. Liquid courage had her standing up from the table, turning to face her brother as he closed the door.

"You're a bastard," she slurred by way of greeting. Mac raised an eyebrow at her, frowning as his eyes tracked the bottle clasped in her hand.

"The fuck are you still doing up?" Charlotte moved toward him, taking another gulp of the amber liquid.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she hissed, glazed eyes glaring daggers. "Why are you such a sick bastard?" Mac grabbed at the bottle, jerking it from her grasp and slamming it onto the counter. Charlotte stumbled, barely catching herself against the table before she hit the ground in a drunken pile.

"What are you talking about?" Mac was, for once, genuinely confused and that frustrated him beyond belief.

"The girl, Mac!" Charlotte raged throwing her fist out crookedly as her vision swam a bit; it connected with his chest just barely. "The girl you didn't remember, the girl you raped!" Her fist continued to pound against his front, frustrated and sloppy punches. None of them hurt, but the act was starting to make Mac mad. He tried to grab her wrists, stop her fists, but she pulled away. She took several steps back, but fear wasn't her guide. Fury lit her hazy pewter eyes, brighter than he'd seen even in Walter.

"You're a monster," she whispered, "Did you picture me? Was it some horror-show way to punish me cause I don't "get wet for you" anymore?" The words were Rick's; Mac remembered confiding in his brother one night a month or so back while he'd been drunk.

"Charlotte," Mac growled in warning, beckoning her to him with a finger.

"Fuck you!" She spat. Her hand came to the whiskey bottle again; her left hand this time, allowing him to see that her knuckles on that hand were poorly wrapped in what once was nude colored gauze. It was stained red now, some little lines trailed down her arm from beneath. Dry blood trails.

"Charlotte what the fuck did you do to your hand?" Concern tinged his words, Charlotte smiled. It wasn't a bright or happy grin, but grotesque as she lifted the wounded hand. He tried to move closer, but with every step he took forward, she moved two back.

"Are you worried Mac?" the words were harsh and mocking. He thought she'd back herself into the wall, trapping herself, but she circled the table that awful smile still plastered on her lips.

"Charlotte, what did you do?" she looked down at the bottle, still gripped in her uninjured hand. Her smile turned down as she swirled the liquid contents. Her eyes flicked up to his again, and her smile returned. He didn't realize what she was planning until the bottle was flying through the air toward his head. Mac ducked to the right and the glass clattered to the floor, cascading in rivers of booze and shards. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Mac shouted. Charlotte slinked up to him, coming close enough to wrap her arms around his neck.

"What's wrong with me?" she breathed against his ear. "I've been thinking about that. You want to know what I decided?" Mac's hand squeezed her hip sharply. "You broke me," she murmured breathily, the pain drawing a moan to her lips. "You tore me apart and then you did it again. You used that girl to satisfy all those sick thoughts you've had since the first time you saw me. All those perverse fantasies you could never act out." His hands shoved her back, one hand staying clamped around her wrist like a vice and the other coming down across her cheek with a resounding _smack_. Her lip split and blood welled in her mouth. Charlotte cackled through the pain, wiping her good hand across her lip. She watched as blood pooled on her pale flesh.

"You hate it because it's the truth," she taunted, flinging droplets of blood from her hand to his cheek. Mac's tongue swiped out, catching some of the droplets from the corner of his lip, than stalked toward her again, intent on violence. But Charlotte was in the living room before he'd taken five steps.

"Don't you dare," Mac warned as she opened the door. She leveled that terrible smile on him again, jingling her keys as her final mocking gesture before she swaggered out of the house and gracefully as she could manage in her less than sober state. Mac heard her truck door slam, followed by the rumbling of the old engine sputtering to life. He didn't go after her, telling himself that he didn't care what happened. He didn't clean up the kitchen either. He moved down the hall to the bedroom, stopping in the doorway as his eyes scanned over hand printed trails of blood on the walls around the bathroom. He moved forward slowly, coming to the bathroom. Shards of glass littered the linoleum floor; little pools of blood smeared and sent pieces of glass floating. The mirror above the sink was gone, the first aid kid spilling across the blood and glass covered floor.

_Jesus Christ_.


	17. Chapter 17

Alright everyone, sorry it's been so long, I started my first year of college and well…I wrote, I just didn't have the time to post. So I went back and added a few chapters to the beginning of the story and I've gotten a few more toward the ending, so start over and enjoy!

**Ch. 17**

Charlotte drove down the main road in town, speeding much faster than what was legal. She couldn't keep her truck in her lane, but that didn't matter. She was almost to her destination. There was only one motel in Cainsville, a sleazy place where married men could take the town whores for privacy. It was the first, and most likely, place to find Agent Neo Beckett. So Charlotte headed away from her home to the man that had promised he could take her away. That had been her dream right? To get away from this terrible place before it corrupted her? It was a little late, but there was still time. She could rejoin the normal world and…_and do what?_ She didn't know yet, but she could figure it out later. First she had to actually get out of Cainsville. She had to convince the agent to get her out without turning on her family. She had a plan for that.

Charlotte turned into the small paved parking lot of the motel. There were only three cars in the parking lot. A small pink VW Bug that belonged to Lowell's wife, Nora, five doors down was a crap Ford, probably belonging to one of the guys from the garage. Finally, all the way at the end of motel building was the large black SUV. Charlotte pulled her truck in the empty space next to the SUV, there was a 'do not disturb' sign hanging from the door handle of the fifteenth room and Charlotte smiled. It'd be perfect if she caught the cop with a prostitute. She went to the door, slamming her fist repeatedly against the hard surface. There was a muffled thud and then some soft grumbling before Agent Neo Beckett answered the door, glaring daggers at whoever was disturbing him. He was shirtless, rubbing sleep from his tired eyes. She'd obviously woken him. Charlotte gave him the slyest smile she could muster, leaning against the doorframe, waiting for him to wake up and recognize her.

"Miss Devereaux, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Agent Beckett asked through a yawn. Charlotte's smile drooped.

"Well, pleasure _could_ be the intention." She regained her composure, hand coming up to undo a few of the buttons on her shirt. The lace of her bra could be seen and she could see his eyes drift down. He blinked, drawing his eyes back to hers and clearing his throat.

"Miss Devereaux, what are you doing here?" he asked again, more awake now.

"I wanted to talk to you, about what you offered the other day," she batted her eyes to him, pouting, "Can I come in? It's kind of cold." She shivered sardonically, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. Beckett gave a little smirk.

"If you'd stop taking off your clothes, you might be a little warmer." She dropped her arms, glaring at him, agitated that he was dismissing her so easily. She pushed passed him, entering the dingy little room, casting a disdainful look at the cheap décor. Mac's house wasn't much, but it was better than this disgusting place. "Come on in, I wasn't asleep or anything," Beckett muttered to himself, closing the door and turning to face her again. Charlotte was sitting on his bed one long leg crossed over her other knee. She leaned back, letting her shirt fall open a little more. "So you wanted to talk?" he prodded, keeping his eyes aimed over her head.

"Don't be shy, _Special Agent_," she purred, her fingers started to undo the remaining buttons of her shirt until the fabric laid open, baring her thin stomach and high, lace covered breasts. "Come on, why don't you join me?" she patted the spot next to her, smiling suggestively.

"Miss Deveraux," Beckett said again, his tone a little firmer, "what did you come here for?" Charlotte sighed; Beckett sniffed the air, frowning at her. He came closer, leaning into her face. "God damn, you're drunk," he accused. Charlotte tightened her lips closed, frowning at the stupid, observant agent. "Go brush your teeth," he demanded, pointing toward the bathroom. Charlotte scoffed.

"You won't fuck me, but you'll let me use your toothbrush, isn't that a little messed up?" she asked snidely. Beckett watched her sneer, thinking about his daughter. It clicked then, that little niggle in his mind that he hadn't been able to name before.

_She was a child. A petulant little child who needed discipline. _

"Go." He ordered again, the "dad voice" coming out. Her eyes widened, but Charlotte stood, moving into the little bathroom with a frown. She flicked the switch, bathing the dingy tile with the light that didn't really lighten anything. Everything was dirty and chipping, she felt even more disgusting then she was.

"I'm taking a shower while I'm in here," Charlotte called, "Feel free to join me." She thought she heard Beckett grumble, but she couldn't make out any words. She rolled her eyes at her reflection, closing the door, stripping down and turning on the shower. While the water heated she brushed her teeth, nosily looking through his little black bag of bathroom things. The man liked to be clean. Shaving cream, expensive razor, mouthwash, he had it all. It made her smile a little. She'd never met a man so obsessive about hygiene before. In fact, it'd been a long time since she'd met a man that could resist her obvious seduction attempts.

That kind of made her smile too.

Neo fell back onto the squeaky bed, listening to the shower kick on. His arm came over his eyes, blocking out the dim light, a sigh slipping from parted lips. He tried not to think about the girl in his motel room shower. Instead he wondered why she was there at all. Two days ago, when he'd shown up at her house, she'd been less then enthused by his presence. She'd called Walter right after he'd pulled away too. That hadn't surprised him though, the girl had been brainwashed since she was fourteen, if his records were correct. He had no knowledge on how she'd come to Cainsville, but he did know, from surveillance and informant records, that Walter had taken her in.

As the ringleader, Walter had almost immediately started exploiting Charlotte Deveraux's mathematic ability. From what Neo had on record though, besides working the books and general knowledge about the drugs, Miss Devereaux had no other connection to Walter's business. She lived with one of the main producers though, her "brother" as she'd called Mac the first time she'd met Neo. From what Lowell Pratt had told him, Charlotte and Mac had an intimate and sometimes violent relationship.

Another sigh escaped Neo. The violent part was obviously true, given the amounts of scarring on her body. She didn't seem to care if people saw them, since she'd strutted around in front of him with her shirt undone. Neo imagined that was just a front though. Weakness wasn't something easily shown in Cainsville. He couldn't fathom how Charlotte had survived like she had for so long. Neo conjured up a picture of his own daughter and smiled. _Her pretty red ringlets shining in the sun as she played on the beach, running away from the cold water as the tide came in._ He'd kill to protect his daughter; Glo was the light of his life. He couldn't think of any situation that would make him abandon her somewhere like Cainsville. Leaving Gloria with her mother was bad enough, but someone like Walter? Never.

"What are you thinking about?" Neo's arm came up, one eye training on Charlotte, leaning against the bathroom doorway. She was wrapped in one of the thin, frayed motel towels. It hardly came to the middle of her thighs and it took an immense amount of will power not to stare anywhere but her eyes. He focused on her question, she sounded sincere enough, but it wouldn't be the first time someone like Walter sent a pretty girl to distract or attempt to kill him.

"My daughter," Neo answered, dropping his arm from over his eyes completely. He lifted himself onto his elbows, if she was here for Walter, two people could play that game. Charlotte gave a warm smile and her hand traced her stomach almost unconsciously.

"You must really love her."

Neo raised an eyebrow, "Why do you say that?"

"Your smile, nothing makes me smile like that." Her pewter eyes darkened a little, genuine sadness drifting through the bluish depths.

"I do," he answered after a moment of silence. Charlotte nodded, but it was an awkward kind of motion, jerky, like she wasn't sure if that was what she wanted to do. Another silence washed over them. It wasn't comfortable. Charlotte shifted her feet, eyes flicking around the room. She was so unsure of herself when she was out of her element. Neo pushed himself up completely, resting his arms on his knees, watching her façade falter.

"Do you have anything to put on that doesn't smell like a bar?" Charlotte's strange colored eyes fell on him. Her head shook once. Neo gave her a small smile, standing from the bed and moving to the suitcase lying open in the corner behind her. It took him a minute to move her out of the way. With a gentle grip on her small shoulders he side-stepped her a few steps, noting for the first time how much shorter she was then him. It took him a large amount of effort to let her go. Ignoring how smooth her skin was and how lingeringly warm her body was from her shower. He knelt to the suitcase, digging for one of the t-shirts he'd packed. When he found it, he handed it over. Charlotte held the worn shirt in her hand, stroking her thumb over the soft material. Without a word, Charlotte dropped the towel, replacing it with the shirt. Neo looked over her head as the towel hit the floor, thanking whatever higher being that made him put on the oversized sweatpants he'd adorned for sleep.

"Why don't you look at me?" The soft voice drew his eyes back down. It was so quiet, sad, like the thought of being unattractive to anyone caused her physical pain.

"I…" Neo didn't really have an excuse. It definitely wasn't because he wasn't attracted to her.

"Is it 'cause you're married?" She gave a thoughtful look, hurt flashing through her irises, "That can't be right," she murmured, more to herself. "Even married men stray. Married women too."

"I'm not married." His response was immediate, rehearsed. Charlotte blinked, shocked by the intensity of his words.

"Oh…" she moved away from him. Setting herself on the bed gently. His shirt was long on her, ending a little lower than the towel had. Even so, she kept her ankles crossed daintily, keeping herself modest. Neo fell into the chair, facing her. This silence was a little less awkward. "Do you have any pictures of her?"

"Who?"

"Your daughter?" Neo grinned and it caught Charlotte off guard. _Was it possible to be so…happy, just from the thought of a person?_

"My wallet," he lifted his chin to the nightstand. Charlotte turned, circling the bed to grab the leather case. She returned to her place, facing him as she opened the wallet, letting the slides of pictures fold out. There were six images, different ages. She assumed they were in chronologic order, but she wanted clarification…or maybe she just wanted him to talk again. He had a nice voice.

"How old is she?"

Neo stood, moving across the small room to sit next to her on the bed. He took the wallet from her hands, holding it long ways so that the pictures were in the right direction. "She's six."

"What's her name?"

"Gloria. She prefers Glo, though."

"I don't think my mom ever had pictures of me," Charlotte said without thinking. She was staring at the photos, inspecting each one. A few looked professional, but most looked like they'd been taken spur of the moment. Neo looked at her, trying to figure out if she'd really just said something about herself. She had, he was sure, but she didn't realize it. "She's beautiful," Charlotte's voice broke through the quiet; her fingers traced the plastic covering of Glo's six year old face.

"She is."

"She looks like you. In the eyes, the hair a little." Neo gave her a strange look, when she looked up at him, she giggled. "The way the light makes the color change. It may not be the same shades, but it's the same." He accepts this explanation with a nod. She lay back then, head tilting to the side. She smiled up at him, nothing seductive or suggestive. Her smile was honest. Happy. He noticed though, her hand was resting on her stomach again, tracing an invisible line through the shirt.

_Or a not so invisible one._

Neo's hand came out, sliding the shirt up her stomach, ignoring her lack of underwear beneath. His eyes came to the scar across her lower stomach. It was nearly white, standing out against her tan skin.

"Did they do this?" he demanded, anger welling up inside him. Charlotte's smile vanished, her hand latching onto his wrist to pull it away. He didn't have to specify who "they" were supposed to be.

"It was a mistake."

"What, you accidentally fell into Mac's knife?"

"No"

"Or was it Walter? Why the hell are you even here?" Charlotte shoved him away, sitting up and off the bed in one fluid motion.

"Why do you care?" she snapped. "Why are you here?" Neo fell silent. There was no denying the tears slipping from her eyes. No way to ignore that her hand was back over her stomach, over the scar, holding herself protectively.

"I want to help."

"Why?" the question was weak.

"Because if it was my daughter, I'd want someone to help her." Charlotte didn't say anything, so Neo continued. "Your friend is pregnant, Nora, right?" she nodded. "Don't you want her to be safe?"

Charlotte's mind flashed back to the cave, to Lowell laying over Julianne. She thought about Nora, how happy the woman was to be pregnant, how happy she was to have married Lowell. "Yes," she whispered.

"Then let me help."

Charlotte stayed silent for several beats. Neo moved off the bed, laying his hand over hers on the scar.

"I can get you out of here. I can help you, if you help me. I can keep you safe." He stayed close to her, setting his forehead against her temple. It was impractical, getting so close to her. But he couldn't resist. She reminded him so much of Glo, so headstrong, but so breakable.

He wanted to save her.

"What do I need to do?"


End file.
